Ship of Destiny

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by Frank Chadwick


  “He did.”

  “And you refused?”

  “Yes.”

  “Explain.”

  Kakusa drew two long breaths through the respiration membranes on her flanks and gathered her thoughts. This was the essence of her sin and she wanted it understood for what it was.

  “P’Daan had told us our task was to capture the criminal S’Bitka, and S’Bitka agreed to surrender himself. We had already lost two of Lord Y’Areez’s Ships and another, my own, was crippled. Over two hundred servants of Y’Areez had gone into the Darkness already. There was no certainty my two Ships would have prevailed in another battle. I had been ordered to obey P’Daan, but I also had been given responsibility for the useful application of the force Y’Areez had loaned to his brother god. These two charges had become incompatible. I chose to preserve the children of Y’Areez while insuring P’Daan’s goal was achieved. In doing so I knew I was violating the order given by P’Daan and that I would be punished for this unforgivable sin. I now willingly accept God’s punishment.”

  She rested her arms on the arms of the chair and closed her eyes, waiting for the end. She breathed in and out, and the air in her compartment bore the scent of burnt wood, her favorite room scent. She wondered why. What memory in youth before leaving her hive had triggered this pleasant association? She couldn’t remember, and in a way, that made it all the more pleasant. She was not ashamed of what she had done, and she would die with the scent of burnt wood in her flank tongues.

  She sensed a restlessness and opened her eyes to see the legs of the interlocutor shifting, his weight going from one to the other, as if in distress at what he heard from God. She closed her eyes again.

  “Lord Y’Areez has decided the punishment for disobedience will be the death of Chief Helm Kakusa by-Vrook through-Kuannawaa. But Lord Y’Areez also desires the skills of the one called Kakusa should not be lost to his host, and so they will be transferred to another servant.”

  She looked up at the interlocutor. “Such a thing can be done?”

  “Great is the power of Lord Y’Areez. Your consciousness will go into the body known as Tatak Seven by-Noom through-Katchawaa. All of the deeds and honors of Kakusa die with that name and Tatak begins as a common helm. When this Ship joins the main fleet, she will transfer to Ship One-Two-One and take command from the current helm of that vessel, who has proven unsatisfactory.”

  “When is this transformation to take place?”

  “It already has.”

  She sat back and looked at her hands. They looked like the same hands. The compartment still smelled of burnt wood, and she still savored the aroma. “I did not feel any change.”

  “Great is the power of Lord Y’Areez,” the interlocutor said, and then the two holograms winked out.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  An hour later, Outworld Coalition Naval Headquarters Complex, the planet K’tok

  27 September 2134

  Sam looked out through the disguise which was becoming more comfortable over time rather than less, which worried him a little. Hopefully he wouldn’t need it much longer. Rear Admiral Goldjune had a hard time accepting the reality of his identity, but both Te’Anna and Cassandra had answered every question he had, and Sam had done some answering as well. The Varoki intel officer had also been shocked, but had taken it calmly after the initial surprise wore off. He said very little, listened a lot, and Sam could tell his mind was working constantly. Sam remembered he’d met Nuvaash twice before, back when Sam and Cassandra were still together. There had been something about him Sam hadn’t quite trusted then, and there still was now, but he at least trusted him to be on their side against P’Daan.

  “All right,” Admiral Goldjune said, “I guess I accept that you are Lieutenant Commander Bitka. I suppose I see the necessity of the disguise up until now. The longer P’Daan is in the dark about you being here, the better. But we can’t keep this secret from the chain of command. I’ve got a duty to report your presence and you’ll have to answer for your actions at Destination.”

  “All in good time, sir,” Sam said. “But why don’t we deal with P’Daan first?”

  “I agree, Bitka, but it’s not up to me.”

  “That is correct, Admiral,” Te’Anna said. “It is actually up to me. My rescue of Captain Bitka was conditional upon his acceptance of service to me, I believe you call it parole. For the term of that service, he is my thrall. I am, of course, willing to loan his service to you toward achieving our common end.”

  Goldjune looked from Sam to Te’Anna for a moment and his expression darkened. “A coerced agreement won’t hold water, and I’d call the conditions Lieutenant Commander Bitka found himself in coercive, beyond which his agreement cannot bind me.”

  Sam smiled and nodded. “Yes, sir. Why don’t you get some JAG lawyers working on that? But in the meantime, if you want Te’Anna’s assistance, you’re going to have to agree to her terms.”

  “Damned blackmail is what it is,” the admiral said.

  “I assure you it is not aimed at you, sir,” Sam said. “I think you know what I mean.”

  The admiral straightened up and turned to Cassandra. “Commander, is this meeting being recorded?”

  “Oh! I knew there was something I forgot to do. You know how I am sometimes, sir.”

  “I sure as hell do.” He frowned, but turned back to Sam. “Okay, so we’re off the record. First, I have one very important question. Those jump probes P’Daan sent out. Were they aimed at other Cottohazz systems?”

  Sam looked at Te’Anna, as did everyone else.

  “Oh, certainly,” she answered, and Sam saw Cassandra nod as if in grim confirmation of her suspicions. If anyone would have been mentally out ahead of this move, it would have been her.

  “How did he know the location of the other worlds?” Goldjune asked.

  “The same way he knew to come here,” Sam said. “The same way Te’Anna did. It turns out all previous points of origin of interstellar transit are encoded in the memory of each drive. The On-Living Engineers copied all the locations from Cam Ranh Bay. Fortunately, it’s a new ship, and so had only four origin points, other than the chain of deep-space origins on our trip out to Destination. The four important points were K’tok, Rakanka, Bronstein’s World, and Earth. You only picked up the high-power broadcast P’Daan’s probes made at the end, but before then they were probably using low-energy tight beam to interrogate the jump drives of other vessels in the system. He must know the location of every world in the Cottohazz by now.”

  Admiral Goldjune nodded, his expression grim. He turned to Cassandra. “Looks like you were right, Cass.”

  “I take no pleasure in it, sir,” she answered.

  Goldjune turned back to Sam. “Okay. Tell us your plan, and it better be good.”

  Captain Beauchamp was particular about his afternoon staff meeting with the department heads on Cam Ranh Bay, including the OOD on that watch attending by hologram from the bridge. Today that was Homer Alexander’s turn. He lowered his helmet’s visor and found himself seated at the familiar conference table with the captain, Brook, Acho, Bohannon, and Parker.

  “Good morning,” Beauchamp began. “I’ve read all your morning summaries and everything looks shipshape. Only two items on my agenda. Lieutenant Acho, what’s the follow-up on that one-point-five gig laser head?”

  “K’tok Base has it coming up the needle, sir. There’s a maintenance shuttle standing by docked at Highstation. We should have it onboard in seven hours.”

  “Parker, make sure your EVA crew is ready to install it as soon as it’s here. I feel naked with only one heavy laser mount. Well done, LOG.

  “Next item: Captain Rodriguez on Spratley Islands has called a tactical holoconference of the captains and TACs from the ships in the transport division for tomorrow at 0830. She expects hostilities with the Guardians and believes every armed vessel may be pressed into service, even beat-up transports. She wants to familiarize the command staffs wit
h enemy tactics and capabilities, and begin forming contingency plans to deal with them. Lieutenant Alexander, I recommended that you make the main presentation to the group and lead the discussion.”

  “Me, sir?”

  “Of course, you. No one in any Cottohazz navy outside of this ship has fought the Guardians or the Troatta, and of our officers no one knows more about their tactics than you do. We need your expertise, Homer. Just tell us what you know, and then what you think all that means. You’ve got a day to put together the presentation, but don’t overthink it. Just keep it simple. The rest of us are beginners at this.”

  Homer wasn’t sure what to say, other than . . .

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  “Would you like me to helmet up for the conference as well, sir?” Ka’Deem Brook asked.

  Beauchamp looked at him and hesitated only a moment, his face expressionless, before answering.

  “I appreciate the offer, XO, but that won’t be necessary.”

  Sam sat back in his chair and let out a huff of breath. Okay, what was his plan?

  “Admiral, I’ve spent months, literally months, thinking of ways to beat those Troatta long ships, but they all involve using a jump drive. As outnumbered as we are, and without the use of our jump drives, I don’t think we have many other options. I would like Vice-Captain Nuvaash to get whatever readiness information on the other Cottohazz warships in-system. We’ll all need to pull together on this.”

  “Of course,” the Varoki intelligence officer answered. “I believe I can provide that information immediately from my own files.”

  “Even the non-uBakai ships?” Sam asked.

  Nuvaash smiled slightly and dipped his head to the side in a Varoki shrug. “Call it my hobby.”

  Cassandra laughed softly.

  “Okay, good hobby,” Sam said. “I especially want to know if those uBakai cruisers, or any others, have that coilgun-launched ordnance you used on us in the last war, what we called buckshot.”

  “Both uBakai cruisers do as well as the lone Katami cruiser. The others do not.”

  “Well, that’s a start. But our number one priority has to be to fix our jump drives, and I don’t see why we can’t do it. Are Councilor Abanna Zaquaan and Choice still here?”

  “All the civilian passengers from Cam Ranh Bay are,” the admiral answered.

  “Good. We need to crack the broadcast code they used, dig out the command codes, and construct a counter-command which will turn the drives back on again. The Buran councilor was the first to see the similarities in control language between the first probe and the ship control codes in the Destination system. Choice is good with cybernetic data systems and has a very powerful, logical mind. She can connect dots, make connections between different disciplines. Te’Anna can answer a lot of general questions about the drive and system interfaces.”

  “And if I may suggest,” Cassandra added, “Lieutenant Commander Nightingale, the admiral’s acting chief of cryptology, is something of a savant when it comes to cracking ciphers.”

  Goldjune nodded. “If that’s acceptable to you, Te’Anna, it sounds as if we have a pretty good working group there. Cass, get staff on it and set them up a workspace and living quarters here in the compound. Put cots in their workspace if you want. They work around the clock until they come up with an answer. Anyone else?”

  Sam nodded, and sighed. “Yes, I’d like Lieutenant Koichi Ma in the group as well, but I understand he’s still in recovery from that bug K’Irka gave him and the others.”

  “He’s got some psychological issues they’re working on as well,” Cassandra said. “What is he needed for?”

  “Physics. How the damned thing works. Te’Anna explained it to him, and I think understanding it upset him, but I’m convinced he understood.”

  “You said she can explain everything to the working group,” Admiral Goldjune said.

  “Yes, sir, that’s true, but I’m not sure they will be able to understand its significance. Ma, as a physicist, could understand what Te’Anna meant and probably make it understandable to someone who didn’t know all the math. Maybe we can find another engineering officer with a strong background in physics.”

  “Walter Wu,” Cassandra said, and the admiral immediately nodded.

  “Who’s Walter Wu?” Sam asked.

  “Not an engineer, but a physicist, and quite a good one,” Cassandra answered, and threw a furtive glance toward Nuvaash before continuing, “at least so I’ve heard. He is stranded here with everyone else. Just our luck.”

  “I think I know where Wu is,” Admiral Goldjune said, “and I’m sure he’ll be eager to help. And what will you be working on, Commander Bitka?”

  “An engineering project, sir, a way to give our missiles more range, a way to get through their kill zone. I’ll need some help there. Specifically, I need a cruiser with a good engineering department.”

  “Why a cruiser? Why not a fleet auxiliary?” Goldjune asked.

  “We’re short of time. We won’t be going far, but we need to get there quick. I need a ship with some good legs on it. Te’Anna’s would do for speed but it doesn’t have a fabricator division, a machine shop, or a bunch of EVA snipes.”

  The admiral nodded. “The Fitz might do for that, but it’s not under my command. Well, we’ll see about that next.” He looked around the table for a moment. “It’s a good start at the tactical end, but if we don’t have a unified and reliable military striking force, it won’t do us much good. Vice-Captain Nuvaash, I understand you’ve laid the groundwork for contacting the Cottohazz special envoy when he arrives. I’ll want to pursue that contact as soon as practical. Cass, since you’ve already got Senator Ramirez y Sesma’s attention, maybe you can approach him about working with the special envoy.”

  Sam looked at Cassandra and she studiously avoided his eyes, looking instead at the admiral and nodding seriously. A senator? Huh. He might need to get out of this bird suit sooner than he’d planned.

  “In the meantime,” the admiral continued, “we need to get Vice Admiral Stevens in on this, and I’ll need to borrow you for that, Bitka, assuming Te’Anna concurs. Gordo Stevens can free up the Fitz. If we can get the special envoy and Admiral Stevens working with us, I’m pretty sure my good brother will see the light as well.”

  “I’ll do whatever you need, sir,” Sam said, “but I better warn you that Vice Admiral Stevens doesn’t have much use for me.”

  “You’d be surprised, Bitka. Lot of surprises today, and before we get totally carried away with the mission, let me just say it’s a privilege to meet you at long last. I admired your conduct in the last war, and your handling of the Bay has only added to that admiration. And by the way, damned fine set of design recommendations you sent me at BuShips on the DDR modifications. Welcome home, son, even if you do look like a big vulture—and I’ll take your word for the fact that’s temporary. Welcome home.”

  Home. He was home, wasn’t he? This had become his home: these people, this navy. He nodded to the admiral but found he couldn’t speak.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  The next afternoon, Outworld Coalition Naval Headquarters Complex, the planet K’tok

  28 September 2134

  Vice-Captain Takaar Nuvaash and deputy envoy Laptoon Haykuz waited in a VIP lounge for the arrival of the next passenger capsule at the needle downstation, the capsule which would carry the Honorable Arigapaa e-Lotonaa, special envoy plenipotentiary of the Cottohazz Executive Council. Nuvaash could tell from his flushed face and twitching ears that Haykuz was nervous. Understandable, considering both what was at stake and how far the special envoy’s station was above that of Haykuz. Nuvaash had it easier: military rank established a comfortable and unambiguous social positioning for those who held it. Knowing exactly where you stood was strangely liberating, provided you accepted it—or pretended to.

  When the arrival warning tone sounded, Nuvaash and Haykuz walked to the restricted VIP arrival area and soon the special envoy and
his surprisingly small entourage passed through the broad exit from the customs and security area. Nuvaash recognized the special envoy from the numerous dossiers he had studied. He was accompanied by two armed security guards and only three staff assistants. One of the security guards was Human and female, shorter and less bulky than most Humans and nearly dwarfed by the Varoki around her. Dark hair and fine features, but otherwise undistinguished from most Humans. She shared the cold, blank eyes of the Varoki security specialist.

  Human security guards were not uncommon. Humans shared a reputation for a willingness to undertake violence, and a certain animal cunning, which made them useful, and in some circles even prestigious, security guards. What was much more surprising was that one of the three Varoki staffers was also female. It was not unheard of, but extremely rare to see a Varoki female in a position of responsibility such as this, but e-Lotonaa had a reputation for eccentricity.

  The special envoy exchanged a word with his staffers and then the three of them hurried off, possibly to locate and take charge of the group’s baggage. E-Lotonaa and his bodyguards then approached Nuvaash and Haykuz.

  “Good evening,” the special envoy said. “It is evening here, is it not?”

  “Yes, it is . . . well, late afternoon, Honorable Special Envoy. Nearly evening,” Haykuz stammered. They exchanged shallow bows.

  “And this must be Vice-Captain Takaar Nuvaash, the uBakai Speaker for The Enemy.”

  “Honorable Special Envoy,” Nuvaash answered with his own bow.

  “I see an empty private lounge,” the special envoy said. “Let us take a moment and get acquainted here, where there is less chance of our conversation being overheard and recorded.” The special envoy’s two guards took position outside the room, to either side of the doorway. The special envoy and the others entered the room and Nuvaash closed and locked the door behind them.

  The special envoy looked at them. “This is my third trip to K’tok, and I have enjoyed none of them. It may be I will die here, but if Providence allows me to leave, I do not intend to come back again. That requires that what we do here be done completely, with no loose threads which someone may pull on and so unravel our tapestry. Do you understand?

 

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