Renegade Patriot

by Oscar Andrews

  “Yes, but my crew call me Xena. And this is Sergeant Hidalgo, my second in command,” she said, introducing Zahra, who had positioned herself by her right elbow.

  “Xena, it is then. Hidalgo,” he said, nodding at the somewhat shorter woman. Neffy instinctively mistrusted her. She seemed tightly wound, and the way she was standing so close to Xena made her seem controlling. His impulse was to keep a distance, but something told him that this woman was somehow central to the dynamic here.

  “I’m Captain Nefertiti Klingerman,” he continued, without missing a beat, “and this is Sergeant Alice Montgomery, better known to our crew as Neffy and Ally.” He signaled first to himself, and then to Ally.

  Appropriate nods were made towards the newcomers. “Let’s talk more privately,” Xena suggested.

  Hidalgo went to follow them and Xena shook her head, as if telling her that she wasn’t going to be in on this meeting. The woman looked rejected, then a flash of anger flickered across her face. A second later she turned on her heels and strode off in the other direction. Xena sighed almost imperceptibly and shook her head as if having an internal dialogue with herself. She then turned back to her guests and indicated for them to follow her.

  Xena led the way through the expansive operations deck and beyond the static holoscreen Kae had disappeared behind just moments earlier. They turned right and stepped through another sliding door into a comfortable boardroom. It seemed quite a contrast to the big open plan of consoles and carbon-composite surfaces. The sudden quiet and absence of bustle was a welcome break, especially after a long hyperdrive from Sol. Neffy felt himself relax almost instantly.

  “Please…” Xena signaled to the quilted chairs around the boardroom table, taking her own seat at the head; a permanent holoprojector hung directly behind her.

  Neffy sat on the side of the table closest to the door, and Ally took a seat a few places up but at the opposite end of the table to Xena. This was where the interview process started, and Ally got her best data when she was facing the subject. She fixed her eyes on Xena and started recording, framing up the woman’s face to first establish a baseline, and then allow micro-expressions to be read in real time.

  Neffy, meanwhile, readied himself to pose questions and present different arguments to see how Xena would respond.

  They knew from their training at the Academy that in 74% of conflict scenarios, the person reaching out to the mediator for help was the actual instigator of the conflict. This had been true throughout the history of the Federation, just as it had been with the United Nations in ancient times. Their first job was to determine if Xena was in this 74% or whether the Drewdonians’ aggression was indeed unprovoked. Neffy also realized from Trent’s briefing documents that they had compounding variables to eliminate from their assessment of the situation. In first meetings, subjects would tell an average of 2.8 lies in the first 7 minutes. Ally had started the clock.

  Xena seemed unaware that she was being processed and analyzed. She may have been trained by a Federation Academy outpost here on New Atlantia and would have received extensive training on conflict resolution and cultural integration, but this kind of conflict negotiation protocol was something that only the field agents were trained in. She likely assumed she was just hosting two expert negotiators who were here to stop her planet from being bombed.

  “So why don’t you start by telling us what has brought us here,” suggested Neffy.

  Xena took a deep breath. “Well, it all started about two months ago when the Drewdonian Commander-in-Chief, Ashworth, sent us a communication on the e-DNA. He was claiming that some of our research and development people had stolen one of their top-secret projects. We knew nothing of any operation and told him so. He insisted, and we went back and forth with him for weeks. They seem to have lost some kind of prototype, and they’re accusing us of being the ones who stole it. They’re also saying we kidnapped the scientist who was working on it. We are honestly baffled.”

  Neffy listened quietly, taking notes on his personal holo. He knew Ally was recording everything, down to the timbre of Xena’s voice as she spoke, but he wanted to capture his own thoughts about the content of the conversation, too.

  He paused his note-taking for a moment. “I’m not sure I understand what prototype they could possibly have developed that would be relevant to your world. What could Drewdonia have invented that you would want for yourselves?”

  His voice was flatly skeptical, making out he was siding with Xena.

  Ally watched, waiting for Xena to let her guard down. Interviews tended to be much more revealing when the subject felt understood, and Neffy was very good at giving them this impression. Plus, they were racing against the clock. It was probably a matter of minutes now before the Drewdonians made it into orbit and would be within firing range.

  “We’re not sure either,” Xena admitted, “Their planet is absolutely different from ours. They have higher levels of atmospheric methane, and are still in the terraforming phase. They have to live in domes just to breathe and farm. What’s more, it’s my understanding that they have an abundance of water – something we do not have.” She signaled in the direction of the main windows out in the command center, even though the windows weren’t visible from their cocooned conference room. “We can’t imagine what technology they might develop that would be remotely useful to us.”

  Neffy nodded, showing O’Shea she had his full attention.

  Xena continued, “Not only that, but as a colony we’ve been established here for over three hundred years. We have infrastructure, teaching facilities, and an extensive R&D program. Drewdonia has only been inhabited for fifty-something years. There’s no way they’ve got spare resources to put into technological advancement at this stage. I’ll bet they’re still importing the tech they need from Sol.”

  Neffy detected a hint of disdain for the newer colony in Xena’s words.

  Apart from that, her remarks seemed genuine. Ally was running a real time diagnostic on the conversation, watching for hot spots where Xena might seem overly anxious. She’d broadcast these hot spots to Neffy’s holo so he could push further and see what the increased tension was about. There was nothing that broke baseline yet. Neffy glanced over at Ally, wanting some form of confirmation as to Xena’s account. Ally nodded discreetly, signaling that all was good so far.

  “They’re what? 630 light years away?” asked Neffy.

  “Yes, exactly,” Xena confirmed, “I can’t imagine what would be important enough for them to mount this kind of expedition. They need all the resources they have just to survive at this stage in their development. Even then, their own resources might not be enough in an emergency. That’s why this makes so little sense.” Xena looked down at her hands in a gesture that made her look genuinely at a loss as to what to do.

  It was indeed a mystery. Neffy assumed they were missing something. “Tell me about your ground-to-air defenses,” he urged gently.

  Xena leaned back in her chair, arm resting casually on the table. “We’ve got about a dozen laser ports around the city. We installed them to protect the inhabited areas from meteorites that come through the thin atmosphere. They could probably do some damage at a push. But then we’ve got three ground-to-air missile launchers at equal points around the city, too.”

  Neffy remembered glimpsing the holomap on the operations deck. Those must have been the three triangles placed on the map, he guessed.

  Xena continued, “Our analysts suggested that if we fire on them, there is a 60% probability they will be destroyed with the first missiles. 90% with two.”

  She paused a moment, as if about to make a confession. “We’ve had a lock on them since they dropped out of hyper about 2000 kilometers out.”

  Neffy leaned back from the conference table. He knew both parties would be prepared to defend themselves, and despite Xena’s apparent reluctance to fire right now he very much doubted that she would hesitate for long.

  He needed to talk to t
he Drewdonians. And fast.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Anything else we need to know at this stage, Xena?” Neffy asked, casually wondering if she might offer up the missing piece of the puzzle, but simultaneously knowing that this game was only just beginning.

  “No, I don’t think so. I can get you a log of the communications thus far, though,” she offered. “Maybe you’ll see something we’ve missed?”

  “Yes, that would be helpful. Thank you.” Neffy was about to ask about their previous contact with Drewdonia, but before he could formulate the question a low-pitched alarm started to sound.

  Xena snapped back into warrior-mode. “That’s the weapons lock signal. We’re under attack!” she announced, leaping to her feet, “I need to get back.”

  Xena strode through the sliding door, and Neffy and Ally followed suit. Leaving the quiet and focus of the boardroom behind them, they mentally prepared for the first real test since landing.

  Back out on the operations deck, Xena was clearly the strong leader her team needed her to be, yet something in her expression still seemed confused. Neffy watched Ally’s data discreetly on a holoscreen on his arm panel. It confirmed that she was telling the truth, but Neffy knew that didn’t automatically mean she was innocent in all this.

  As he watched the New Atlantians race around in response to the alarm, Neffy decided he would need to take a strong stance with the Drewdonians. As far as their relationship with the Federation was concerned, they were the aggressors. They were pointing weapons, and they were the ones traveling from their home colony to engage in this situation. No matter what the New Atlantians had stolen or not stolen, whether they were kidnappers or not, Neffy knew he had to deal with one situation at a time, and the first hurdle was to get the big weaponry holstered so he could continue his investigation. Get the Drewdonians to stand down. Mission one.

  No pressure, he told himself, but it all rests on these next moments.

  As they strode across the command center to the main holocommunications panel he thought about how Trent would be reviewing his performance in the upcoming conversation. This was high profile. Plus, he was on review since his forced leave. He could not afford to make a mistake.

  Okay, Neffy, he told himself. It’s time to compartmentalize.

  Protocol dictated that New Atlantia would hail the Drewdonian ship before they fired. Neffy had already made the decision that he would be stepping in and taking this communication. These negotiations were always tricky, but it was immensely more difficult to get to the truth when first contact happened in front of the other party.

  Neffy, Ally, and Xena’s original entourage, and a few other official-looking warrior women, were standing around in front of the holo as it clicked into play. The Drewdonian ship, the Aegelweard, had been connecting as they approached, and now he was looking into the face of the man who would either destroy him where he stood or give him the next piece he needed to solve this puzzle.

  “You know why we’re here,” said a man, presumably the ship’s commander, his face grim with determination as he looked into the viewer.

  He was dark, with muscular features, his skin toughened, probably from working out in the dome fields back on Drewdonia. Neffy found himself wondering if they had enough water to be farming cattle and therefore meat, which would explain the man’s rather solid features.

  Focus! he commanded himself. He was too much of an academic for this kind of work…but then Trent would argue that it was his perspective and curiosity that made him perfect for this task.

  Neffy stepped forward before the ship’s commander could continue.

  Introductions first. Build rapport. He reeled off the protocol to himself. The scripts they’d had hammered into them at the academy worked perfectly 90% of the time in simulations with actors, and 83% of the time in the field. These processes had been honed and developed over centuries of conflict resolution and research, and what’s more, the drop in efficacy in the field was normally due to lack of data and misreading of the variables. The models themselves were actually more effective than the data they could normally gather in high-intensity scenarios.

  “Greetings Commander. I’m Captain Nefertiti Klingerman, from Sol. I’ve come to help resolve this conflict on behalf of our Federation.”

  He paused, allowing the man to make his introduction. They used this approach to get the parties involved to play by the social norms of civility. It seemed to work. The man relaxed, somewhat thrown by being addressed by a Peacekeeper, rather than Xena, whom he was likely expecting.

  “Commander Ronaldi Joshua Haafiz,” he replied, “Commander of the Aegelweard, from Drewdonia. We have business with Captain Eryn O’Shea.”

  “Yes, I’d like to get some clarity about that business, if I may,” said Neffy.

  He was assuming authority. Politely. Technically, the man probably outranked him on his colony, but being from T3 and representing the Federation still seemed to carry some weight, even out in the more isolated colonies. Plus, being another 630 light years away from Sol than even New Atlantia, Drewdonia was about as remote as you could get in this direction of space. Proximity to Sol brought with it a subconscious hierarchy.

  By his response Neffy guessed he’d had some Academy training, though, and since there was no Academy out on Drewdonia it would most likely have been here on New Atlantia. Then he realized something else. If he had been trained on New Atlantia, he may have had contact with Xena already. He did ask for her by name. Neffy opted to test this hypothesis in conversation first before he showed his hand. Being able to display inside knowledge and profiling ability was essential to being able to instill confidence and trust. If he messed it up, he would lose the credibility he needed to bring this to an end.

  “What exactly do you believe the New Atlantians have done?” he asked.

  The commander paused to order his thoughts. It was always the same. The silence before the onslaught of information. He’d have to control this situation tightly. He was very aware that he couldn’t discount the prospect of Xena stepping in and adding fuel to the fire.

  “The New Atlantians,” he began, the words twisting in his mouth as if he was biting back suppressed anger, “stole an important prototype, and kidnapped our chief scientist. Without him, our terraforming operations are in disarray and we risk not being able to grow enough crops this cycle. They have done this deliberately and I cannot imagine why. Unless their goal is to cause maximum destruction without officially declaring war.”

  Despite a veneer of professional courtesy, to say this man was on edge would be an understatement.

  Neffy cocked his head, deliberately indicating curiosity. “Why do you think they would mean you any harm?” Neffy didn’t want to get into a “he said/she said” discussion with Haafiz. There was no way he was going to be able to shift his frame and resolve the dispute that way.

  “They want to see us destroyed. We’re competition for resources out here. And when we’ve finished terraforming we’ll be a threat to them. They’ve been out here too long. They think the Keplers should belong to them…”

  The man seemed to be reeling off one far-fetched conspiracy theory after another, hoping something would make sense of it all.

  Neffy was confused by his words. There was no way these two civilizations, 630 light years apart, were competing for resources. And how would they possibly be a threat? Something was very wrong with his arguments. Mind, it wouldn’t be the first time an aggressor emerging from a developing colony had an axe to grind with the rest of the galaxy. He recalled an old case from the files, of an early settler who had gone “space-crazy” during the terraforming process – with disastrous consequences for his fellow colonists.

  That was different, though. It was likely triggered by the psychological pressure of being on a new planet, with no prospect of going back to the creature comforts of the Sol system.

  But the present situation was one nation nigh-on declaring war on another. A whole population
being pitted against a civilization that was far better established. Not just one person going space-crazy.

  “Commander,” he responded, still with an authoritative voice, “I’d like to review the communications Drewdonia has had with New Atlantia over the past several weeks. I’d also like the opportunity to better understand the threats that they are making against your colony. I can help. But right now, with their ground-to-space missiles pointed at you, and you looking like you might fire on this very building, there’s not much I can do. I need to inform you that the New Atlantians have locks on your ship, and will destroy you with 90% certainty before your missiles ever touch the atmosphere. I’d like to be able to assure them that you have no intention of firing while we conduct our investigation and find out what’s really been going on here. Do you understand?”

  Neffy knew that the most promising way to avert action right now was to emphasize the mutually assured destruction that had come into play so quickly. This was the problem with colonies having powerful weaponry. He’d looked at the possibility of mass disarmament in a paper he had written for the Federation about five years ago, following another crisis closer to home. The problem was, these weapons were also essential to protecting the colonies and their ships from space debris and asteroids. There was no way the Federation could take them away. The only other option was to empower each civilization to make rational, collaborative decisions. That was a little more difficult when paranoia and intrigue circulated at the speed of an e-DNA message.

  “I support your investigation, Captain,” Haafiz assured him, “but we are unprotected here in orbit. Those thieves are locked on to us with their missiles. I have the right to defend my ship.” He made a signal to someone off-viewer.

  Seconds later another alert sounded through the whole operations center.

  “Captain, the Aegelweard has locked on to the Federation building with their on-board missile system!” a junior operative at a nearby console reported to Xena. Xena nodded, acknowledging the information. She looked directly at Neffy. Though her face looked firm, her eyes gave her away. She was angry. And behind the anger was fear.