by Dennis Young
The XO nodded, looking around the room. The men and women seated at the monitors, the officers and their Leads watching over them, even the security guards, all were subjected to some of the most stringent evaluation Earth Alliance had devised.
“The washout rate is over ninety percent,” remarked Straum. “We’re lucky we have enough to man three ships.”
Allard grinned at her. “Three more coming. Two under construction, one more on the drawing boards. Another squadron will be operating within five or six years.”
Straum thought about it. “I’m happy and sad at the same time. If the AI’s prove to be better than the crewed fighters, my pilots will be out of a job. So will anyone being considered for the new ships.”
Allard nodded, then whispered, ‘Just between us, it will be a while, if ever. I’ve never seen a situation where AI is better than a living mind.”
Straum grinned to herself. “I’m… pleased to hear you say that, sir. And a bit surprised.”
“Let’s just say I thought growing up, how great it would be to pilot a Phoenix fighter.” He shrugged. “Didn’t happen, but I’ve had the opportunity to work with those like yourself and the others. I’m impressed, and a little jealous.”
Straum smiled. “Thank you, sir. We’re all proud to be serving on Burlingame.”
Allard motioned to the covert port hatch. “Let’s get back to civilization. I want to see where matters stand. I have a feeling the Qoearc may well have an idea we’re here, regardless of our precautions.”
* * *
QAS Diviak Nurmeen…
Toks’s scouts had returned with a treasure of information; holos, recordings of unsecured messages, more than he could have hoped for. He ordered the scout crews be fed sumptuously and given a full cycle of duty shifts to recover, while he and his tactical staff pored over the details.
The Earthfleet ships were similar to the typical cylindrical shape Toks was familiar with. But below the center was a rectangular multi-level construction of unfamiliar type. The most intriguing element of the design, however, was a “tail” depending from the rectangular decks, ending in what appeared to be a weapons array. This “tail”, or as his Weapons Officer called it, glek’wa, or “stinger”, was unlike anything Toks or his officers had ever seen on an Earthfleet ship. He wondered of it. He also marveled at the ports, five to a side, on the rectangular deck area. What could they be? Docking ports, obviously, but why so many?
It was only when his junior FedStudies Officer mentioned the word tok’ma-tak, “one-who-fights”, he understood.
“Of course they fight!” Toks snapped. “The ship is designed as a fighting craft!”
“Zacan, the meaning is not the same in this matter. I speak of small craft called ‘fighters’ in Earth Alliance Standard, crewed by only one or two. They are small, agile, and carry weapons more destructive than their size might indicate.”
Toks was silent for long moments, thinking of the implications. “These… ‘fighters’… internal to the larger ship, yes?”
“Zacan, you are correct.”
“Launched from these ports, there are ‘ten’, as Feds say…” Toks’s voice drifted as he thought once more. “Might they carry more?”
“It would be advantageous,” replied the Tactical Officer, “to offset losses, or launch a second attack.”
“Our defenses…”
The Tactical Officer looked around the gathering. “Zacan, our sensornet might give aberrant data, depending on many factors such as speed, approach vectors—”
“How do we defeat them?”
Tactical’s tongue flicked in agitation, and his scales flashed green in embarrassment. “With difficulty. However, I will learn.”
“Do so!” Toks motioned to the planet on the screen. “And contact the planetary speaker again. They have one planet rotation to accept our demands or we will take what is wanted!”
* * *
EAS Burlingame…
The squadron moved inward at one-quarter impulse power. When tactical advised the Qoearc ships had taken up stationary orbit above the three largest cities on Harmony, Mitchell ordered Battle Stations and flank speed, sent warnings to the Qoearc, and alerts to the planet. Lieutenant Rashim called additional Comm techs to the Bridge, the First Officer took command in Special-Ops, and Straum ordered the AI fighters to the launch bays. Additionally, she had her pilots stand ready just in case. Only then did she make her way to Special-Ops as well.
Burlingame took point, Marshall on the right flank and Armstrong on the left, both ships trailing at a hundred kilometers. RF chatter flowed between the ships, all encrypted, and standard approach vectors were used. As the squadron flashed by the inner-most gas giant, tactical reported no fire on the planet from the Qoearc as yet, and Rashim advised Mitchell that Elder-Third Clovis would arrange a transmission between Elder-First Carmichael and the captain at the earliest opportunity.
“Finally,” said Mitchell, watching the viewscreens, now showing split views of the Qoearc in orbit. “Mister Rashim, route that call direct to my ready room as soon as you receive it. Tactical, Sciences, what did you come up with on your enhanced Qoearc simulations?”
Neunada crossed to the science station and conferred briefly with Tyvaos before answering. “Thirty percent increase above standard Cotak is barely manageable, Captain. Fifty percent, little chance.”
“Unless we can coordinate fire from two or more ships,” added Tyvaos. “That would, of course, require splitting their forces.”
“And possibly taking so much from two of our ships, we wouldn’t have enough left for the others.” Mitchell studied the viewscreen ahead, Harmony only a blue dot in the distance. “Mister Rashim, get the other captains on the line and patch them in to my intercom. Lieutenant Neunada, how good are the Qoearc defenses?”
“Unknown, sir, but with the increase in neutrino output from their core, likely as good as ours, if not better.”
The intercom speaker came to life. “Guererro here, Captain. Marshall is standing by.”
“Armstrong here, Captain Mitchell.”
“Captains, I need opinions. My Tactical Officer tells me the Qoearc countermeasures may be just as good or better than ours and their weaponry superior. We have the edge on maneuverability as you know, but we need a plan to take at least one of them out of action without major damage to ourselves.”
“They’re in stationary orbits. They’re sitting ducks, Mitch.”
“Agreed, Sonja, but I doubt that will last once they see us bearing down on them.”
“Split their forces, Captain,” said Trachenberg’s voice.
“Again, agreed, but—”
“Don’t give them time to react. Flank speed all the way in, time it so two of them are on the opposite side of the planet when we take on the third.”
Mitchell looked to Tyvaos who turned quickly to his scanner. “Affirmative, Captain, the positioning works if we target the ship above city number two.”
“Captain, I remind you we have yet to receive permission from the government to use our weapons in this system. Elder-Third Clovis was explicit on this matter.” Neunada’s voice was quiet, but held strength.
“We may not be able to wait,” said Trachenberg. “If the Qoearc open fire, we can’t allow the cities to be destroyed.”
“You’re suggesting a pre-emptive strike against a Qoearc ship that has yet to fire on us?”
There was a pause before Trachenberg answered. “Yes, sir. We know they’ve been… aggressive toward the Harmonians. There’s no doubt why they’re here.”
“Mitch, have you spoken with the government directly?”
“We’re waiting for a call from them now, Sonja.” He looked again to Rashim, who shook his head. “If we don’t hear from them in one standard hour, we’ll call again and insist on speaking directly to their head of whoever is in charge of their military.”
“They have no military, sir,” said Rashim softly. “They barely have a civilian security
force.”
“Captain, I request permission to represent our forces and engage directly in negotiations with their leaders.” Trachenberg’s voice was firm but controlled.
“At ease, Commander,” replied Mitchell. “We’re hardly diplomats.”
“On the contrary, sir, I’ve negotiated three truces in my previous assignments. If I can speak with the leaders, maybe we can find a way to allow us to protect them and their interests.”
The Comm panel buzzed and Rashim quickly turned in his chair. “It’s Harmony, sir. They’re ready to talk.”
Mitchell drew a breath. “Captains, the Harmonians are calling. I’m instructing my Comm Officer to patch the conversation in to your ready rooms, so you can listen privately. But no audio from your sides. This situation is touchy enough, and it’s only because of the Qoearc aggressive tendencies, as Commander Trachenberg has reminded us of, that we’re being allowed to talk to Harmony’s government. Understood?”
“Absolutely, Mitch. We’ll listen and take notes.” Mitchell could almost hear the wry grin in Guererro’s voice.
“Commander Trachenberg?”
A pause. “Yes, sir. I understand. May we discuss this further once you have spoken with Harmony?”
“Of course. I’ll still need your advice. Both of you.” Mitchell looked to Rashim, waiting at the comm panel. “Burlingame out.”
He rose, heading for the ready room. “Patch them through, Mister Rashim, also to Marshall and Armstrong. You heard my orders, no audio from their sides. Lieutenant Norea, you have the conn.”
“Aye, sir. Doing so now.” Rashim turned to his panel once again.
Looks passed around the Bridge, station to station. Norea, the helmswoman, took the command seat and shook her head. “Damn politics.” She blew a breath. “They’ll get us all killed eventually.”
* * *
QAS Diviak Nurmeen…
Toks’s ships hung in space thirty-five thousand kilometers above Harmony, each above one of the largest cities on the planet. His communications officers had broken into what passed for the government’s security channels, assuming panic had ensued and orders to evacuate dispatched. He found nothing of the sort. Scans showed the inhabitants calmly going about whatever their daily business was, although they did seem to be dispersing earlier in the day than had been observed.
“Reasons?” asked Toks.
“Zacan, certainly not because of safety concerns. Perhaps a feeling of… comfort?”
“Explain.” Toks eyed his FedStudies Officer, wondering if the subject was beginning to affect his thinking.
“Humans take comfort in being among their own kind, especially family.”
“Family? As in siblings, parents… this is your meaning?”
“Zacan, it is. Where in our society we often find challenge from those closest, humans are more trusting and assume family members harmless, for the most part.”
“Dangerous. And foolish.”
“Zacan, your point is taken. Nonetheless, it is what my research has shown.”
“So they disperse themselves from their assigned duties to take comfort from… us?”
“Zacan, again you are likely correct.”
Toks showed teeth. “Unfortunate the shipboard crews do not have family among them. It would ease their endings.”
“Yet, as you have said,” continued the FedStudies Officer, “not nearly as much challenge. Another thing humans find in their closeness is a sense of courage to face adversity.”
Toks leaned back on his haunches, watching the city below on the screen. “Good,” he said quietly. “Very good.”
* * *
EAS Burlingame…
The conversation with Elder-First Carmichael had not simply gone in circles, but slowly spiraled down into absurdity. Mitchell had dealt with politicians and diplomats numerous times, but not in his twenty-plus years in Earth Alliance had he encountered such an exasperating situation.
“Sir, I completely understand your insistence that we not discharge our weapons in your planet’s vicinity. However, the distance the Qoearc are standing off poses no substantial threat of debris entering your atmosphere that will not burn up before reaching the surface.” This was the third, or possibly fourth time Mitchell had brought this topic up, one that seemed to be close to the main concern of the Harmonians.
“I must decline your explanation, Captain,” replied Elder-First Carmichael. “Any chance at all is too much of a chance to take. I’ve attempted to express our deepest concern now for nearly a standard hour. We cannot allow it.”
Mitchell studied the face before him. Obviously human, with lines about his eyes and mouth, thinning white hair combed carefully, and a simple high-collared blue tunic of natural wool, the Elder-First was what Mitchell’s grandfather had called himself many times; a stubborn old man. Mitchell wondered of his actual age, then dismissed the thought. This man, however old, was an experienced negotiator, and more than once had led Mitchell away from the real concerns into dead-ends that had no relevance.
“What would you have us do, sir? We cannot stand aside as the Qoearc destroy your world and slaughter your people. The Gates of Harmony are under Earth Alliance Protectorate, which means it is our sworn duty, agreed to by yourselves, to protect you against outside aggression. The Qoearc are outsiders. They have come for one reason only, and that is to strip the Harmonian system of whatever resources they want. They do not recognize Earth Alliance authority in this system. To them, you are but a fruit to be plucked.”
“An interesting analogy, Captain, which reminds me, we are due for our evening formal meal. Would you care to join us?”
Mitchell nearly rolled his eyes. “Sir, thank you for the invitation, but I cannot leave my ship. Further, I need to know what Earth Alliance can do to fulfill our obligations to Harmony. Please describe explicitly what you will allow regarding the Qoearc.”
“You may do whatever you wish, providing it is not in conflict with our laws,” replied the Elder-First. “Weapons discharge in our system is not allowed.”
“But the Qoearc have already discharged weapons. They have destroyed two of your unmanned stations, sent the third into your atmosphere, and our scans show massive destruction in inhabited areas. Many of your people have already died, by direct action of the Qoearc. In addition, they have taken your crewed station hostage and hold it now as a bargaining ploy.”
The Elder-First nodded gravely. “Agreed on all points, Captain. We are currently negotiating with them for compensation and reparations. They are obviously in direct violation of many of our laws. We will have our due from them eventually.”
“Not if they destroy your planet.” Mitchell found it difficult to hold his rising temper. “Sir, I ask you again, allow us to engage the Qoearc for the safety of Harmony and your system at large. We admire your fortitude in standing against such obvious aggression, and only desire to help.”
“The best way for you to help is to honor our laws, Captain, and if you will review the formal agreement between Harmony and the Earth Alliance, you will find this was a central clause in that document. However…”
Carmichael leaned off-screen for a moment, then returned, smiling. “I have been advised that if you can draw the Qoearc beyond our outermost planet, and out of our sun’s gravitational singularity, you may engage them as you desire, provided you furnish us with proof of doing so. That proof can be after the fact, of course.”
Mitchell’s thoughts raced. “You realize we have the technology to falsify records of that type.”
“I do not understand.”
Like hell you don’t, thought Mitchell, you just want me to say the words for the record. He paused, composing himself, then continued. “We could easily provide you with recordings that were fabricated. Simulations of battles, or of drawing the Qoearc away from Harmony, then engaging them.”
“I see.” Carmichael nodded, thoughtful. He raised his face again and showed a questioning look. “Yet the Earth Alliance
would never be so… duplicitous, surely. Are you saying we cannot trust an Earthfleet officer’s word?”
Mitchell blew a breath. “You may trust us, yes, and very factually, with your and our lives.” He paused a beat, then nodded at last. “Very well, Elder-First Carmichael. You have my word as an Earthfleet officer, we will obey your laws and find a way to draw the Qoearc away before engaging them in combat. However…”
“Yes, Captain?”
“What if that proves to be impossible?”
Carmichael inclined his head and smiled wistfully. “Then it is out of our hands, Captain, and what follows will be the way of the universe. ‘This, too, shall pass’, as my father used to say.”
Not if we can prevent it, thought Mitchell again. “Very well, Elder-First Carmichael. Thank you for your time and your words. I hope we may speak again in more cordial and social circumstances.”
“My hope as well, Captain. Thank you for your honest concern and understanding.”
The screen went dark. Mitchell clicked off the intercom button, waiting ten seconds to be certain the link was broken. He slammed his open palm on the desk.
“Damn!”
* * *
EAS Armstrong…
Trachenberg, having listened with growing angst to the dialogue between Mitchell and Carmichael, sat in the ready room of Armstrong, reciting a mantra her grandfather had taught, one used often to calm her spirit. This time it wasn’t working.
Mitchell had delayed further discussion, giving everyone time to reflect. Trachenberg was starting to feel bitter disappointment, in the Harmonians, in the mission, but knew in her heart Captain Mitchell was right; laws were for a purpose, and if ignored, there lay the way to ruin for all. She wondered how he would deal with this now.
Contacting her air wing commander and acting XO in the hangar deck, she ordered them to her ready room for an update at the next shift change.
Then she took time to return to her quarters and briefly read passages from her siddur, passed down through generations in her family. The cover was of real leather, tanned and formed by an ancestral uncle so long ago there were worn spots on the prayer book spine. The pages were real parchment, those, too, made in traditional manner, and the scriptures hand-written in ancient Hebrew, memorized from her childhood. It was the oldest object she had ever held in her hands, and wondered of the families who had kept it through the decades. She placed it back on the shelf, said a benediction softly, and exited, knowing the next duty shift might decide the fate for every living thing in this star system.
