by S. H. Jucha
Tatia left the suite, grabbed a meal, and gathered the other admirals. She wanted to personally hear their summary reports.
The admirals’ themes were similar. The Colony was making extensive use of the domes. The race was aggressively invading non-alliance worlds. But, most important, the insectoids had brought the fight to the Omnians, using their shuttles, rings, and transports as weapons.
Two Tridents and their crews had been lost. A third Trident’s engines were damaged, and the ship was abandoned. That made a total of twelve travelers left on the surfaces of moons.
Tatia dispatched Tridents with single travelers aboard to recover the orphaned travelers.
When Tatia requested it, Julien joined the admiral’s meeting.
Each command had witnessed the extent of the Colony’s intrusion throughout alliance space, and each admiral secretly hoped that their section of space was the anomaly. The hope was that it was always the other admirals who were discovering less evidence of the insectoids.
Julien’s data summary was sent to the admirals. They received totals of Q-gates, rings, and shuttles. In addition, he listed the count of transports, shuttles on the planets, and estimates of insectoids to have landed. The numbers were staggering.
Minds focused on the data displayed by implants. Their thoughts were nearly singular. The federacy might be momentarily contained, but the alliance’s problem was running amuck.
After a brief break for Tatia to consult with Alex and Renée, the next conference iteration began. It was held after evening meal to allow Jess, Tacnock, and Aputi to join the Omnians.
“Captain, Julien compiled the search data from the four commands that have returned, and he’s added what we’ve received to date from Admirals Shimada and Bellardo,” Tatia began. She nodded at Julien, who shared the information with the veterans.
Julien had included the light-year distances and the travel times that a single starship fleet would have to expend to provide interdiction against the Colony’s present territories.
As the veterans reviewed the mind-boggling facts, the silence stretched on.
Aputi’s wide shoulders slumped. Tacnock’s lips lifted in an unexpressed snarl, and Jess’s hand went to his forehead.
“What does this mean to Omnians?” Jess asked. He regarded Alex, who swung his eyes toward Tatia.
“I’m sorry, Captain, the data from our commands tells us that Omnia Ships can’t save the alliance. The problem is too great,” Tatia said reluctantly.
To the dismayed faces of the veterans, Renée added, “Sers, we haven’t the resources. It’ll take more ships, crews, and credits than Omnia Ships possesses now or will accumulate in the next century.”
“However,” Alex said in a way that snapped the veterans’ heads toward him. “We do have a solution to your problem, but it’ll require the cooperation of alliance races.”
“I thought we were lending our support?” Aputi asked.
“Major,” Julien replied. “With the existing resources of Omnia Ships, the presently trained veterans, and the amassed shadows, it’s calculated that the Colony would be cleared from alliance space within two hundred forty years.”
“During which time, the Colony would continue to expand,” Tacnock said in a desultory fashion.
“Not to mention the fact that the Colony would develop more aggressive tactics to counter our efforts,” Jess added.
“This is why it’s imperative to involve the entire alliance,” Alex said. “Time is not on our side. The sooner the Colony is stopped, the better it is for everyone.”
“By everyone, Alex is including Sol, the human colonies, and the federacy,” Renée warned. “We view the Colony as a terror that might eventually spread across the galaxy.”
“I take your point, Captain,” Tatia added. “The sooner we engage the fight with greater forces, the less costly in lives and ships it’ll be for us.”
“Where do you start?” Jess asked Alex.
“With the Tsargit, of course,” Alex replied. “I’m sure the lead councilor is looking forward to our return.”
Renée and Julien shared grins at the prospect of surprising Jarmonin again.
* * * * *
Fistonia opened bleary eyes and responded to the comm. “Report,” he growled at being woken during Hyronzy Station’s inactive period.
“The Omnians have arrived, Director,” a staff member replied.
“A dome shuttle?” Fistonia queried.
“Negative, Director, it appears to be a passenger starship in the company of many warships,” the caller replied.
“Where are the ships?” Fistonia asked, as he struggled upright. His cycle had been comfortably moderated for decades of annuals, and the Omnians seemed to have no regard for their impositions.
“They’re on approach to the station, Director,” the staff member replied. “But a shuttle left the passenger starship and has sped ahead. The pilot’s requested a bay. He reports the Omnian co-leaders are aboard.”
“Co-leaders,” Fistonia repeated. That was news to him. “I’ll meet them,” he said and ended the comm
As Fistonia hurried to dress, a thought occurred to him, and he experienced a perverse sense of justice. Then he paused to comm Jarmonin’s quarters.
“How may I help you, Director?” Jarmonin’s assistant replied.
“Wake the councilor,” Fistonia politely requested.
“Surely, Director, you know that it’s inconvenient of you to deliver such messages at this time requesting you speak with the councilor,” the assistant replied.
“Oh, it’s not for me,” Fistonia innocently objected. “The councilor expressed a desire to immediately meet the Omnians the next time they arrived. I’ve just been told the Omnian co-leaders are on approach to the station. Oh, before I forget ... the staffer added something about a tremendous number of warships accompanying the leaders.”
Fistonia closed the connection before the assistant could reply. He rubbed his heavy, blunt, furred muzzle with a clawed hand and chuckled delightedly. If he was to be rousted from his bed during this unwelcome period, others should join him.
After dressing, Fistonia hurried to the bay that was assigned to receive the Omnian shuttle. On the way, his ear wig buzzed, and he answered the call.
“Director, please escort the Omnians to deck thirteen, section four, suites nine and ten. Councilor Jarmonin will join them after they’ve settled,” the assistant said, and then he ended the comm as abruptly as Fistonia had before.
The burly Hyronzy’s heavy canines flashed. The assistant’s superiority complex was something that Fistonia enjoyed tweaking.
As the Omnians exited the bay, Fistonia greeted Alex.
“We seem to have disturbed your sleep again, Director,” Alex apologized.
“You know our cycles, Leader Racine. Surely, you can plan your arrivals better than this,” Fistonia replied.
“It’s not our way to waste time, Director,” Renée replied. “You have the choice of sending staff to meet us.”
The Hyronzy stared down at the slight human female.
“Director Fistonia, I’d like you to meet my co-leader and partner, Ser Renée de Guirnon,” Alex said, trying to keep a smile off his face. It was obvious the director hadn’t enjoyed Renée’s response.
Fistonia swept his eyes between Alex and Renée. In his experience, most mates were similar in stature and size. It seemed to be a common design of the Messinants. The co-leaders couldn’t have been more different. It was as if they originated from different species.
“If you’ll follow me, please,” Fistonia uttered, when he could tear his eyes away from the couple.
As the Omnians exited the final lift, they entered a pleasantly decorated corridor. It was in contrast to the station’s mostly utilitarian finishes.
Then Fistonia touched a door panel, and the Omnians entered a sumptuously decorated main room.
“This suite and the adjacent one farther down the corridor will accommod
ate the members of your group, Leader Racine,” Fistonia said. “I was informed that Lead Councilor Jarmonin will attend you presently.”
When Fistonia exited, Miranda remarked, “Much nicer rooms than they gave us on the previous visit.”
“What did they look like?” Tatia asked. When she received Miranda’s imagery, she chuckled and said, “I think the council would like you in a good mood, Alex.”
“We’ll have visitors soon,” Z announced. Eyes turned his way, and he added, “Comm traffic among staff members indicates the councilors are choosing who will accompany Jarmonin.”
The Omnians took the opportunity to select sleeping rooms within the two suites, stow their gear, and assemble in suite nine’s salon to await the councilors.
A little while later, the suite’s door slid aside, and a staffer beckoned to others in the corridor.
“Leader Racine,” Jarmonin said, as he walked through the doorway. Other councilors, representing a variety of races, followed him.
Introductions were completed, but everyone remained standing. The room’s furniture could accommodate many species. However, if several councilors chose to sit, they would need to adjust the adaptable chairs.
“We won’t keep you, Leaders Racine and de Guirnon,” Jarmonin said. “We wish to know the purpose of your visit. This time, we choose to be facilitators and prevent a repeat of the events of your last visit.”
“We need to address the representatives again,” Alex replied.
“Again?” a councilor moaned with a deep resonance.
“It can’t be helped, Councilors,” Renée offered. She politely smiled but noticed that it had little effect on her audience. They reminded her of the Confederation Leaders — bureaucrats who resisted disturbing their carefully crafted calendars.
“The representatives meet in eleven cycles,” a councilor offered. His words were croaks, but the ear wigs managed the translation.
As the holo-vid lit, the councilors eyed the star pattern it displayed.
“What are we examining?” Jarmonin asked.
“Your space and beyond,” Alex replied. “Alliance worlds are in blue,” he added, and Julien highlighted those stars.
“Next, non-alliance systems with domes,” Alex said.
Julien used yellow to designate the stars.
“So many,” a councilor uttered in surprise.
“Orange for domes where the Colony was detected moving through gates,” Alex announced.
Most of the yellow stars turned bright orange, and the councilors were aghast. It had been the same for Omnians.
“Then we add the systems with rings,” Alex continued, and a portion of the orange-highlighted stars changed to red.
“If the domes have rings, Councilors,” Renée said, “then, more than likely, the Colony has either invaded a habitable world or set traps for our ships.”
“Traps?” Jarmonin queried.
“Traps,” Tatia repeated. “We’ve lost three warships and two full crews to clever ambushes that the Colony set.”
“You’ve come to Hyronzy Station to display your data, is that it?” a councilor inquired.
“You’re familiar with the Pyrean Resistance,” Tatia stated. She’d assumed a TSF officer’s parade ground stance. “We’re here to organize the alliance resistance.”
“You must present your proposal to the council for consideration,” a councilor insisted in a guttural voice.
Jarmonin knew the response was a mistake, but it was too late to retract it. He didn’t want to infuriate the Omnian leaders, and he recognized that most of the councilors with him were attempting to maintain control of the situation.
“You mistake our intentions,” Renée said. “We’re not seeking the Tsargit’s approval as a body.”
“Then what?” a councilor hissed.
“We’ll make that known when the representatives meet in two cycles,” Alex replied. “We’ll let you return to your sleep cycles, Councilors.”
Arguments formed on the councilors’ lips, but they faced a wall of Omnian countenances and stances that said conversations were concluded.
In the corridor, the councilors walked to a concealed panel. It slid away and revealed the entrance to a private car. They rode the pneumatically driven lift to level one — the immaculately maintained and well-appointed apartments of the councilors.
“We won’t permit this meeting, correct?” a councilor asked, when they halted in front of the door to Jarmonin’s apartments.
“How do you propose we stop it?” Jarmonin replied tartly. “The previous time they commandeered our station’s comm system. Our specialist found no intrusive code or ancillary equipment. I suspected the Omnian SADEs. Before there were two of them. Now, there are three.”
“I found it intriguing how the enormous SADEs stayed protectively close to the co-leaders,” the Lillian councilor remarked. “Their appearance and mannerisms prompt the imagination. Where have the Omnians traveled and what worlds have felt the treads of their boots that they’ve needed such extensive protection?”
The other councilors eyed the Lillian. Her species were well-known philosophers. They hadn’t neglected the sciences, which had enabled their race to quickly conquer space and succeed with the dome. However, they had tendencies to wander off topic and muse on abstract thoughts.
“About the meeting,” a councilor hissed. “We could warn the representatives that the meeting in two cycles is unofficial, and it’s to be disregarded.”
“Were you not listening to me?” Jarmonin asked, with incredulity. “The Omnian SADEs are aboard our station. We’re not in complete control of our comm system ... they are. Accept that there’ll be a representative meeting in two cycles on the subject that we’ve just been presented and prepare for it.”
13: The Offer
The Tsargit representatives received the message of the emergency meeting courtesy of Z. It informed them that they were to receive critical data from the Omnians.
Staff members weren’t caught unprepared. The moment that they’d heard the Omnians were aboard the station, they’d expected a sudden shift in their representatives’ schedules.
A second traveler landed in the same bay as the traveler that brought the co-leaders, and the shuttle’s ramp dropped. With a grav pallet, crew had loaded a Trident’s bridge holo-vid.
Miranda strode into the bay, hoisted the heavy piece of equipment in her arms, and walked off.
On the morning of the representatives’ meeting, Miranda set the holo-vid on the hall’s stage. A tech extended the power cable she requested, which she inserted into the nanites-coated receptacle. The tech watched openmouthed as the bond formed.
Uncharacteristically, the councilors arrived early for the meeting and occupied their dais in the round. Their strategy was to appear as if they’d requested the Omnians’ presentation.
Tiers of rows filled with the races’ representatives and their staff.
At the appointed time, Julien caught Jarmonin’s attention and nodded.
The lead councilor realized he was being directed to start the meeting, which should have been his privilege. His comms panel lit without touching it. SADEs, he thought and not pleasantly.
Jarmonin sat upright and in a firm confident voice he announced, “The Omnian co-leaders, Alex Racine and Renée de Guirnon, are here to offer you information.” His voice, amplified by the hall’s audio system, carried well into the top tiers. When he finished, he nodded toward Julien.
“My partner and I ordered a survey of alliance space and the stars farther out,” Alex said, which Julien relayed through the audio system. “We’d like to show you the results of our efforts.”
Julien signaled the holo-vid. Its display reached high into the air.
Then Alex, Renée, and Julien repeated the pres
entation that they’d given the councilors. By its end, it had created several outbursts in the hall.
A Veklock, one of a triumvirate, stood to be recognized, which Jarmonin acknowledged.
“Leader Racine, my mates and I,” the female said, “request more specifics from your data.”
“What would you like to know?” Alex inquired.
“Can you locate our home world on your map?” the Veklock asked.
Julien accessed the search data’s repository. He signaled the holo-vid, and a green-highlighted star pulsed dramatically.
The Veklocks stared at the display. The female’s long beak dropped, and she issued a desultory squawk, before she sat down heavily. Their home world was surrounded by non-alliance stars highlighted in yellow and orange. The Colony surrounded them.
The Omnians were bombarded with requests to identify the representatives’ home worlds on the star map until Jarmonin interrupted.
“The council would ask the Omnian leaders if they’ve a purpose to this presentation,” Jarmonin said.
“Yes, we do,” Renée replied. “Long ago, your younger races formed the Pyrean Resistance, and they fought the Colony inside the domes. They were hampered by a lack of knowledge about the gate network, the console operations, and a dome’s resilience. In time, the Resistance prevented the Colony from entering the alliance systems. But there, the effort ended. That was a mistake.”
Rumblings, squawks, chirps, growls, and all manner of perturbed responses were heard in response to Renée’s accusation. However, some voices favored her rebuke of the Tsargit.
“You might not like what my partner just said,” Alex projected in a commanding voice. “Like it or not, it’s the truth, and here’s another ugly truth. The fight against the Colony is going to get tougher. We’ve lost ships and crews to insectoid treachery.”
“Are you intending to defeat the Colony?” a Usaanan sand serpent hissed. He hadn’t requested permission to speak, and Jarmonin didn’t appear likely to restore order.
“No, the task is too great,” Renée replied. “I’d ask you ... do you want the Colony defeated?”
