AMP Messenger

by Stephen Arseneault

  Chapter 18

  _______________________

  Three weeks passed before the Swift was back to 100 percent. The fractured Tantric layers had been replaced, the environmental system reworked with extra shielding added, and the comm port fully protected from a direct strike. After discussions with the team, it was decided that we should attempt to find or make contact with the species that had done battle with the Milgari. It was hoped the trajectory the Milgari had taken when they had gone on the move would lead us to our potential future allies.

  We lifted off the following day and headed back to the Pichik sector. A short detour to the Milgari base showed that it had been abandoned. Various bits of garbage and construction debris that floated about were the only indications it was ever there. We then set a course along the Milgari route with the mission of finding the new species. Unless they appeared belligerent, we would attempt to make contact.

  As we flew through the debris field from the battle, Frig had comments. “Sir, I took the time to analyze the debris back at the base. It appears they left in a hurry, but they were able to move those construction docks without disassembly. For the amount and level of construction they were doing, I would say that making it mobile was an incredible feat. The resources they have at their disposal must be tremendous.”

  I thought for a moment before replying. “Well, they have been gobbling up other worlds for at least a thousand years. I would guess they have been adapting the different technologies they have taken, making them their own. It's a lot faster and cheaper to steal than it is to develop. History, at least what little history we have, has taught us that.”

  After another two weeks of travel at full speed, we approached a system that was teeming with life. We slowed to a stop to observe signals emanating from twin planets and multiple space stations. Frig was quick to identify a number of warships as having the same pancake design as the attackers. Our translators immediately spit out the name of the Prassi. The Prassi were six-legged insectoids with a hive-like lifestyle. They averaged a meter in length, with large eyes and pincers for jaws. They closely resembled the images of ants as drawn in the Grid archives.

  “Frig, I know you like insects, but try to control yourself, OK?”

  Frig responded with a snarl. “Sir, we do not eat sentient beings. Unlike your species with the breeding and... well, the eating of Boraks, sir. a species that is well documented as having the ability to reason. It is one of the more barbaric practices of your people.”

  I turned and managed my own snarling face. “Hey, don't be messing with my grilled Borak. That's one of the few eating pleasures I have back on the Grid. They are just another dumb animal, and those documented studies are obviously from vegetation eaters with a pro-Borak agenda.”

  Frig turned the conversation back to the issue at hand. “Sir, I've logged over 7,000 ships of a military nature. Sensors count 843 of what we would consider a battleship class, 1,566 cruiser class, 3,102 destroyers, and 2,200 frigates. I count four major space stations with armaments, and seven minor stations, likely commercial entities, sir.

  “The Prassi have a formidable force at their disposal. The Milgari will have their hands full. I would offer that we may have delayed a Milgari attack on them by up to a year. But that attack is coming. A more concerning development would be for an alliance of sorts to be formed. We could not defend against a combined force of such magnitude. If that were to occur, the Grid would have to prepare to be moved within a few weeks.

  “And we know how long that type of a decision could take with the current set of politicians. If we can make contact with the Prassi, sir, I think we should do it now. We may be in their good graces after the attack on that Milgari vessel.”

  I said, “Wonder why the Prassi didn't send in that whole fleet against the Milgari. That could have easily turned the tables.”

  Frig replied, “As with most battles, sir. A decision has to be made as to what resources should be committed. Perhaps they felt a need to protect their home world should another fleet appear. Until contact is made, we have no way of knowing.”

  Frig was right, as usual. We needed to make contact with the Prassi to discuss cooperation, if it was at all possible. We had met more than one species during our travels on the Grid who were hostile even when faced with annihilation from others. It seemed some species were bent on conquest at all cost.

  We discussed ways of making contact with the Prassi that would not give away our position. A probe could be launched and used as a relay for a signal. A second idea was to bounce our signal off a small moon, where it would then intersect with one of their stations. Both of those ideas were tossed aside when a new visitor arrived in the system. It was Cortes and the Ranger!

  The Ranger was escorted by two frigates to the larger of the two stations in orbit around what we guessed was the Prassi home world. I wanted badly to be a fly on the wall of whatever meeting Cortes was attending. From the low level of escort given, it looked as though this was not his first visit with the Prassi. I wondered if he was playing double agent with them as well.

  Frig was soon hard at work attempting to crack the encryption on the standard Prassi comm channels. The powerful military computer on the Swift quickly yielded results. We had their news channels, entertainment, and commercial navigation feeds. Frig quickly zeroed in on the traffic feed from the docking bay the Ranger had entered.

  “Ranger, proceed to deck 2, corridor C, landing 8. An escort will be waiting to assist you. And welcome back, Sergeant. Your help is much appreciated.” The Ranger echoed the instructions and proceeded to landing C-8. The comm chatter quickly turned to the next incoming vessel.

  We waited and watched for a day, recording the comms for later analysis. The Ranger remained parked for a full rotation of the planet and then lifted out of the bay slowly. It was soon heading off in an unknown direction. Frig guessed they would correct course back to the admiral's base once they had left the sensor range of the Prassi. We were now faced with a dilemma.

  I said, “We can talk to them or just slip away and save it for later when we know what they are about. If we talk, they could tip our hand to Cortes.”

  As it was, we were a mystery, a force unknown, a thorn in the side of the Milgari. If Cortes was indeed working for them, knowledge of our operation and capabilities was the last thing we wanted him to have.

  We spent two additional days gathering information on the Prassi. By all accounts, they were a somewhat-peaceful race, but we had only scratched the surface of knowing their intentions with our few days of observation. I was on edge when it came to the size of their fleet. While they certainly would be in need of every ship when a Milgari attack came, it was as large a fleet as I had ever seen. Species with that much power at their disposal did not sit around peacefully.

  We left the Prassi system and set a course for the Grid. In my mind I still had the picture of Ashley Elizabeth and Michael Felix. I struggled to shake the notion that he had moved in where I had left a vacancy. My only comfort came from the fact that he was a married man, and was not one for breaking the rules.

  We had only traveled a few dozen light-years when our sensors lit up with movement. Frig immediately began his analysis. “Sir, I am counting 2,944 ships. Their trajectory takes them directly to the Prassi system. I say they will arrive in... three hours and four minutes.”

  I glanced over the tactical screen as the ship categorization tables began to fill. I replied, “I think we at least need to watch this battle. The Prassi have a near-three-to-one advantage, but the Milgari will have the element of surprise if they aren't detected first. Either way, that is a lot of ships.”

  Frig continued his analysis and put forth an idea. “Sir, we could turn and offer the Prassi a warning. It would be less than two hours, but that should be enough for them to not be completely surprised. We could fly to the edge of the system and broadcast a message with the information we have before us, including direction and speed. It might be
enough to tip the scales well in their favor.”

  I pushed the stick hard right and set a heading for the Prassi system at full speed. Frig compiled a message to broadcast that included a breakdown of the Milgari ships that were headed their way. An hour later I had the Swift arcing hard to port as Frig sent out the message. Several minutes after the broadcast, we watched on our sensor screens as the Prassi began to respond.

  We took up a position at the edge of our sensor capabilities and watched for the battle to begin. Four massive transports departed the larger of the space stations on a heading straight toward the Milgari fleet. They appeared to be completely unarmed, and I had to wonder what purpose they could possibly serve.

  I said, “We've got to see what they're up to with those barges. We can come back and sit here when it all starts, but I want to know what they are doing. Just doesn't make sense. Unless they are sending out some kind of offering of peace or something. But the Milgari would never go for that.”

  Frig punched a few numbers into his keyboard. “Sir, if you can take us a bit closer, I should be able to get them on visual. I doubt they have sensors on those ships that could detect us. But if they do, we could just leave.”

  I set a course that would take us within visual range. The transports soon revealed their plan. Massive bay doors opened and a dense black cloud emerged from each transport. The cloud seemed to quickly dissipate. As soon as their cargo holds had been emptied of the black substance, the transports turned back toward their home world. My curiosity then got the best of me, and I moved in close to the transports' last location.

  Frig had an analysis. “Sir, it appears as though they have just laid out a minefield. I estimate, given the size of the holds on those ships, and with an approximate size of one meter in diameter for those mines, that the Prassi deployed nearly two billion mines in the path of the Milgari.”

  I clenched my teeth in thought before responding. “Why would the Milgari not just fly around that? Are they stealth somehow?” Frig again punched the keys on his keyboard. “I would say they have passive sensors, probably magnetic in nature. While Tantric is not magnetic, the superstructures of those large ships are.

  “If those mines are projecting a false image forward of exactly what is behind them, the Milgari might be upon them before realizing they are there. With the number of mines deployed, a passing battleship could easily pick up several thousand of those on its hull. They would have to pack quite the punch to obtain penetration through those Tantric hulls, but it is not out of the question. I am placing a good many assumptions on this whole scenario, sir. It may only be a large minefield.”

  I pushed the throttle and pulled us in as close as I comfortably could to the newly-laid minefield. At our new distance, the individual mines were easily visible. I then proceeded to the far side of the field, to the point where the Milgari would first arrive. I was stunned as the millions of tiny blips on the sensor screen quickly faded away. Frig was right: if the Milgari held their course, they would be flying directly into the center of the field.

  I again pushed the throttle hard and moved to the edge of our visual sensor range. We had ten minutes to kill before the Milgari ships reached our point in space. I turned to Frig. “I'm impressed. What made you think of projecting a false image?”

  Frig turned with his usual stoic look. “Sir, the Gambit have used such technology in the past. With the speed our ships travel, it does not take much to mask such a small visual signature. As you could see, when looked upon from an angle, the mines are clearly visible. As a counter-tactic, the Milgari should have pickets riding out front, if only for the purpose of detecting such things.

  “I would gamble that they are not using pickets, as they would risk the possibility of giving away their position, and thus their surprise advantage. A foolish mistake on their part. We will see just how foolish in a moment.”

  The Milgari fleet appeared on the sensor displays. In seconds they moved into the field, never realizing it was there. The mines came to life, tiny ion engines pushing them toward the Milgari ships. There was no time to avoid the trap. Millions of Prassi mines quickly attached themselves to their hulls. After minutes of delay, explosions told of their detonation.

  Nearly four hundred of the Milgari ships took damage. Two battleships and eight cruisers were torn apart. The Milgari fleet quickly scattered as more of the mines came to life. Seconds later, final explosions again plagued the Milgari fleet before they cleared the field. The Prassi surprise had been a success.

  I turned the Swift and set a course for the Prassi system, to our prior vantage point. The Prassi fleet was assembled and waiting, waiting for an attack that would never come. The Milgari commanders had called it off, no doubt frustrated that their surprise had somehow been turned against them.

  For a day we waited and watched, taking note of the Prassi defensive maneuvers. Frig reasoned it might one day be useful information. We were unsure of the Prassi and their standing when it came to other species. They were enemies of the Milgari, but the enemies of your enemies are not always your friends.

  I again set a course for the Grid. I had personal business there, business that I could not deal with psychologically, business that I had to know the truth of. Why was Ashley Elizabeth meeting with Michael Felix? Perhaps it was innocent. Perhaps she was only in search of a new courier. For my own sanity, I needed to know.

  The Milgari aggression had been thwarted, if only for the moment. We had ships that were fast and strong, pilots who were brave, and engineers who were gifted in their trade. Our fleet was tiny yet powerful. The mine operation continued to churn out Tantric ore that George was able to sell at a premium. Our private war was only just beginning.

  ~~~~~