by Tori Harris
“Good to see you again as well, Captain Jelani, welcome back to the Sol system,” Prescott replied. “As you noted, the Pelaran Guardian ship has detected your presence and is headed in this direction. It arrived at Earth immediately after our return. So far, it has shown no hostile intent towards any of our ships, but I am not sure that the same will apply to a Sajeth Collective spacecraft.”
“I suspect not, Captain. What do you suggest?”
“How quickly can you transition back to hyperspace?”
“We have been driving our engines beyond their maximum rated power for several days. As a result, our chief engineer was forced to take the hyperdrive offline temporarily to correct a problem with one of our reactors. While potentially serious, the fix should not be difficult or time-consuming. We expect to be able to transition again within three to five minutes.”
“If our luck holds, that should be quickly enough. Our communications officer is sending you a set of coordinates we are referring to as ‘Location Willow.’” Prescott said, nodding to Lieutenant Dubashi. “We believe it to be near the location of the original Resistance task force rally point. As soon as you are able, proceed there at your best speed. Before arrival, adjust your hyperdrive to allow your ship to remain in hyperspace. Do not transition to normal space until you hear from one of our ships, or you may be attacked by Resistance forces. We believe the bulk of them have now left the area, but we also believe they may have left some of their ships behind to wait for additional reinforcements.”
“Understood, Captain. We have the location. We will arrive in just over twenty-six hours.”
“Very good. We should be there well before you and hope to have the area secured prior to your arrival.”
“Would you be so kind as to allow me to speak with Admiral Naftur before we depart?” Jelani asked.
Prescott had sincerely hoped that this particular complication would not have time to come up before the Gresav’s departure. There simply wasn’t time to explain the situation adequately, and he knew that a misunderstanding here could quickly unravel the fragile trust they had just begun building over the past month. He breathed deeply, allowing his face to take on a very sincere look of concern. “No, Musa. I am afraid that’s not possible at the moment. I am very sorry to have to inform you that Admiral Naftur was seriously injured earlier today and is currently in surgery. I regret that we do not have time for me to adequately explain what happened, but I can tell you that his injury was sustained when he pushed our Commander in Chief, Admiral Sexton, out of the path of an incoming pulse rifle round, saving his life in the process.”
Captain Jelani stared intently at Prescott for a long moment, then, seeming to find what he was looking for, glanced down and closed his eyes momentarily as if offering a prayer. “I am gravely concerned to hear this news, Captain,” he began again, “but I have no doubt that Rugali Naftur was doing exactly what he believed was required of him at the time. Is Nenir Turlaka assisting with his care?”
“Yes she is. She is assisting our own Doctor Chen in the surgery as we speak. So far, they have indicated that his injury is serious, but not necessarily beyond their skills. We should hear from them again within a couple of hours. I am sorry that you will be unable to receive an update until your arrival at Location Willow, but rest assured we are doing everything within our power to save his life.”
“And I likewise assure you that I have no doubt that this is indeed the case. Otherwise, our conversation would have taken quite a different path,” Jelani smiled, a hint of bold defiance flashing in his eyes.
“Captain, the Guardian is transitioning to hyperspace!” Lieutenant Lau bellowed from Tactical 2 just as the image of the Pelaran ship on the right side of the view screen blurred slightly before disappearing in a faint flash of blue light.
“I’m afraid we’re out of time, Captain,” Prescott said as calmly as he could manage under the circumstances. “I will maneuver to keep my ship between you and the Guardian. Please stay behind us and make your transition to hyperspace as quickly as possible.”
“Understood. Thank you and good luck, Captain Prescott. Jelani out.”
“Alright, Lau, how much time do we …”
“Contact, close aboard to starboard!” Lau yelled.
“Helm, block its line of fire!”
Although Prescott had responded immediately, his order came well after Ensign Fisher — growing increasingly comfortable with his ability to work seamlessly with Theseus’ AI — had rolled the ship into a left bank while simultaneously increasing power to come between the Guardian and the Gresav.
“Well done, Ensign. Keep that up until Gresav is away.”
“I’ll try, sir,” Fisher replied, trying to think several maneuvers ahead and realizing that the task would ultimately prove impossible.
At fifty meters in length, the Guardian was only marginally larger than an F-373 fighter and, although maneuverability had not been high on its Pelaran “makers’” list of priorities, it was still significantly more maneuverable than the two destroyers. What followed was like an oddly choreographed dance routine between two blue whales and a single tiger shark as the Guardian spacecraft attempted to place itself in a position that would allow a clear line of fire to the Gresav without hitting Theseus. Initially, at least, each of its movements was quickly countered by a combination of move and counter move by the Human and Wek destroyers.
“It’s playing with us, Captain,” Schmidt announced from Tactical 1 after the third such series of maneuvers. “It has had several clear shots at this point.” To underscore the point, Schmidt opened a window on the left end of the bridge view screen displaying an overhead tactical plot of the current encounter in a quick playback loop. Each time the Guardian’s weapons could have been brought to bear, the AI highlighted the path from the beam emitter to the point of impact on the Gresav in an angry, flashing red.
“Looks that way, doesn’t it,” Prescott answered absently, his attention focused on the Gresav, which he sincerely hoped would be on her way shortly. “As I said, I suspect this whole encounter is a test of some sort. In the process, the Guardian gets an opportunity to confirm its suspicions about our relationship with at least part of the Sajeth Collective, while also learning more about our ship’s capabilities.”
“Meanwhile, we are unwitting participants in its little test,” Reynolds added.
“Well, maybe not unwitting, but definitely unwilling,” Prescott laughed. “It’s not like we felt like we had much of a choice in the matter, and I’m certain the Guardian knows enough about how we think to have made that calculation.”
“By the way,” Reynolds asked, “do we even know if our shields can take a hit from that thing’s beam weapons?”
“I had Logan look into that, but the best he could get out of the Science and Engineering Directorate was a definite maybe. Most of them seem to think that they would hold out for at least a few hits, but beyond that it’s anyone’s guess. One thing they were able to tell us with absolute certainty is that our armor cannot.”
“Inspiring,” Reynolds replied cynically.
“The good news is that I think if it were going to fire, it would have already done so,” Prescott said, a wry grin on his face.
“Sir, the Gresav is transitioning to hyperspace,” Lau reported as the starfield surrounding the Wek destroyer blurred momentarily before she disappeared entirely in a flash of gray light.
“Glad to hear it. Tactical, power down the weapon systems for now. XO, we will remain at General Quarters — most likely for some time — please let our people know we will be maintaining a state of readiness so that they can plan their rotations accordingly. Helm, give us a gentle turn in the direction of the Navajo. Comm/Nav, plot a C-Jump back to the general area near the flagship, just in case, then request a vidcon with Admiral Patterson.”
“Aye, sir,” all four officers replied.
Just off Theseus’ port side, the Guardian spacecraft joined up in formation, a
lmost as if the entire encounter had been nothing more than a routine training exercise between allied forces.
“Sir, the Guardian is hailing us,” Dubashi announced.
Prescott hesitated, thinking that under the circumstances, any communications should be handled by Admiral Patterson. Looking to his XO for her opinion, however, he received only a shrug and a facial expression that clearly conveyed a simple question, “Why not?”
“Alright, this ought to be interesting at least,” he replied, shaking his head. “On-screen, please.”
“Aye, sir, opening channel.”
Seconds later, the Guardian’s now familiar Human avatar appeared on the view screen, this time seated at a virtual Command console. Although “Griffin” had swapped his typical sport coat and slacks for what looked suspiciously like a TFC flight suit, his smiling visage was otherwise unchanged from his regular appearances on Earth’s mass media. “Ah, the heroic Captain Prescott, I presume,” he began. “I’m honored to finally get the opportunity to speak with you in person.”
“Thank you,” Prescott replied flatly, unfazed by the Guardian’s typically disarming tone. “I don’t mean to be rude, but unless you require our assistance, I believe it would be more appropriate for you to speak with Admiral Patterson or members of the Leadership Council.”
“Oh no, I’m perfectly fine, thank you. I’m a little confused as to why you would refer me to the Leadership Council, however. Didn’t your vessel participate in removing the duly elected Chairwoman of that august organization from office earlier this morning?”
Prescott stared at the image on the screen, reminding himself that, while not Human or even biological, it represented an advanced and incredibly dangerous potential adversary. “We were indeed at our Headquarters facility earlier today, and were present when Chairwoman Crull was taken into custody for the attempted murder of Admiral Duke Sexton, TFC Commander in Chief.”
“This is the same Admiral Sexton who was, himself, being taken into custody at the time for dereliction of duty and providing aid and comfort to two enemy combatants, one of which, I believe, was seriously injured in the process.” Griffin paused to offer a maddeningly pleasant smile before continuing. “My, how fond you Humans are of leaving out certain key pieces of information when they do not support your version of events.” He paused again, seemingly to provide Prescott an opportunity to respond, but received only a blank stare. “No matter,” he continued airily, “I must confess, however, that I am curious as to why you would put your ship and crew in danger to protect an enemy Sajeth Collective vessel. This is, after all, the very same alliance that even now gathers forces in preparation for mounting an attack on your homeworld.”
“I am no politician,” Prescott finally responded after a long silence, “but it seems to me that you are painting with a very broad brush. It is true that we have had only minimal time to begin forming an opinion of the Sajeth Collective, one way or another, but our experience thus far has not shown their alliance to be openly hostile towards us on the whole. Would the Pelaran Alliance have us behave in a hostile fashion towards all civilizations we encounter for the first time?”
“Only if your species wishes to survive, Captain,” the Guardian replied in an uncharacteristically menacing tone. “You have a great deal to learn, and should be grateful that we have chosen to grant you the opportunity to do so in relative safety. Had we not, I assure you that your period of blissfully ignorant isolation would have already come to an abrupt and violent end.”
Unwilling to engage in further meaningless debate, Prescott said nothing, but simply inclined his head politely and waited for the Guardian to continue. When it finally did so, its bright, casual tone had returned.
“In any event,” it said dismissively, “I suppose there was no harm in allowing the Sajeth Collective vessel to depart the system. As for your Leadership Council, I am sure that Chairwoman Crull’s actions will be deemed wholly appropriate upon further investigation. It also looks as if Terra will be taking her rightful place as a member in the Pelaran Alliance very soon. Once that happens, I will be much more at liberty to share what we know of interstellar politics and the projection of naval power. In the interim, please do be careful to choose your friends wisely.” The Guardian narrowed his eyes as the corners of his mouth turned upwards in perhaps his most pompous facial expression to date. “Griffin out.”
There was a brief period of silence during which Ensign Fisher could be heard letting out a long sigh as he released some of the tension from the encounter with the Guardian. “Jeez, what an ass,” he muttered to himself.
“Mm-hmm,” Lieutenant Lau agreed in a low voice that only Fisher could hear.
Chapter 19
TFS Navajo
(CIC conference room 2)
“I’ll say one thing for you, Prescott,” Admiral Patterson said, leaning back in his usual CIC conference room chair, “when you’re in the area, things rarely turn dull. I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a man who stumbles into more situations where he’s forced into making far-reaching, life or death decisions without anyone else’s input.”
“Oh, I get input, Admiral. Just this morning I sought out the counsel of my wise and experienced XO and got a solid ‘Why not?’ in response. With advice like that backing me up, how could I go wrong?” Prescott smiled, winking at Reynolds as he did so.
“You’re lucky to have her, and I’d say that sometimes that is the best possible advice,” the older man chuckled. “Honestly, though, I don’t have much to say about the incident with the Gresav. There really wasn’t any way we could prepare for her arrival, given all the things that have changed since you left her a week ago. You just happened to, once again, be in the right place at the right time, and you did exactly what I would have asked you to do if I had been given enough time to do so. I don’t know that I would have sent them to Location Willow, but I don’t know that I wouldn’t have either. It was their data that helped us find the Resistance rally point in the first place, and whatever we’re about to do will probably be over by the time they get there anyway. Are you ready to depart?”
“I believe so, sir. We’re hoping to hear an update on Admiral Naftur’s condition from our medical bay shortly, but even under the best of circumstances, I don’t think he will be in any condition to assist us during our parley with the Resistance.”
“That definitely complicates things, but it doesn’t change the essence of what you’re going out there to do. When Ambassador Turlaka is available, perhaps she can stand in for the admiral. Based on what I’ve seen so far, I’m convinced that the Resistance task force was thrown off their game a bit by the arrival of our Hunter recon flight. The fighter that deployed our comm beacons detected two additional outbound hyperdrive signatures not long after the original twenty-four, so I’m sticking with my theory that we’re seeing late arrivals trickle in and then get forwarded on to a different location.”
Patterson paused, looking as if the discussion had led to him to some new conclusion that he had just noted for later. “In any event,” he continued, “your two flights of Reapers departed half an hour ago and are standing by for your orders at Location Willow. Don’t hesitate to call them in if things start to turn sour. I don’t have to tell you that this is a potentially volatile situation that could degenerate from a parley into a knife fight in short order. Don’t get me wrong, I am hopeful that your negotiations will be successful, but let’s not lose sight of the fact that they came here with hostile intentions in the first place. They are a dangerous, rogue faction from a potentially hostile alliance. I think it’s safe to say that the best we can hope for at this point is to convince them to return home in the hopes that cooler heads will eventually prevail.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Keep in mind that I’ll have a full tactical view of the battlespace as soon as Theseus transitions to normal space at Location Dagger. If we find ourselves in a fight, it’s obviously my preference to do so out there ra
ther than here in the system where we will be forced to commit the bulk of our forces to defense. If I see an opportunity where sending you some additional help might prove decisive, I’ll do what I can, but, for the moment at least, I have precious few C-Jump capable ships at my disposal. Unfortunately, most of our capital ships are a twenty-hour flight away, and I can’t justify the risk of not having them available to defend the Earth, if necessary.”
Patterson paused and studied both of their faces. He knew full well that Theseus was the only realistic option he had for this mission, but he was also painfully aware of the unrelenting stress that her captain and crew had been under for the past month … not to mention what they had already been through just this morning. One more month, he thought. If we had had just one more month before all this hit the fan …
“Do either of you have any last-minute questions for me?” Patterson finally asked.
“No, sir,” both Prescott and Reynolds replied in unison.
“Well then, Commodore … Commander … Theseus is hereby authorized to hoist a broad pennant and depart immediately. Good luck and Godspeed.”
TFS Theseus
“Commodore on the bridge,” Lieutenant Commander Schmidt announced as Prescott and Reynolds emerged from the captain’s ready room. This being the first time their captain had officially been in command of a squadron of ships on detached duty, all six officers and the Marine sentry stood at attention as he made his way back to his command chair.
“Thank you all,” Prescott said quietly. The admiral mentioning the occasion had been one thing, but something about having his bridge crew make this seemingly simple acknowledgment struck him with an unexpected wave of emotion. He swallowed hard before attempting to say anything else, feeling that now was hardly the time for a display of foolish sentimentality. “I appreciate that very much … more than you know, in fact. When we at last reach the point where we are no longer responding to the crisis of the day, every one of us — every member of our crew — has much to celebrate. I promise you when that happens, we will celebrate … and we’ll do so in a way that’s worthy of our accomplishments.”