The Earthfleet Saga- Volume One

by Dennis Young

  * * *

  Mitchell and Guererro waited patiently as Rashim and Intel sorted through the various levels of encryption before sending the message to the ready room. Though the time was spent in quiet, there were words unspoken each knew the meanings of, and Mitchell vowed to himself things would be different if they made it out of this situation alive.

  But I’ve said that before, he thought, and here we are, still waiting. He grinned slightly. Maybe it’s only the anticipation that excites us both, and not the result of it. We’re both adrenalin junkies and live for that golden rush of feeling. Maybe what we could have is just too… tame.

  “A credit for your thoughts,” said Guererro as she raised her coffee cup again.

  Mitchell shook his head. “Not a chance.”

  She returned the grin, knowingly.

  “Captain, I have the solution. Please note the icons on the screen.” Rashim’s voice broke the mood and brought them back.

  “Proceed, Mister Rashim, and we’ll let you know if we need your help.” Mitchell clicked off the intercom as the wall screen lit.

  The image was nothing if not bizarre. On a highly-stylized field featuring cartoon-like stars and planets, were three icons, two at the bottom corners, one at the top right.

  Guererro pointed to the lower left as she stood to consider the images. “Well, she’s nothing if not clever. Is that an old-fashioned toilet?” The image showed the lid up, and water swirling around and down.

  “The one on the lower right is certainly some sort of explosive device,” replied Mitchell. The icon was a ball with an ignited fuse. After a few seconds, the image would explode with the word “BOOM!” in large, expressive letters, then repeat.

  The upper right symbol was… unique. It appeared to be a woman reading from a book, with stars shooting out of one hand pointed at a heavy wooden door of ancient style. This image repeated also.

  “I’m… baffled.” Mitchell regarded the screen, then Guererro, with her arms crossed, contemplating. “My turn now. A credit for your thoughts.”

  Guererro returned to the table and picked up a pointer. “The bomb is easy. Click on this and blow the file up. Self-destruct. The toilet…”

  Mitchell nodded, suddenly understanding. “Down the drain. Same thing, another level of encryption, that likely has no meaning at all to the Qoearc.”

  “But the woman and door? And shooting stars?”

  “Ah. It’s a tome of magic! Use it correctly and the door opens.” Mitchell grinned hugely. “Clever girl, that’s for sure.”

  “Well, if she doesn’t make it in Command, she’s got a career in intel or espionage waiting.” Guererro nodded. “Okay. How do we use it? Say the magic word?”

  Mitchell was speechless for a long moment. “I wasn’t aware Trachenberg dabbled in magic.”

  Guererro nodded, then looked up. “Not magic. Religion. She’s Jewish and takes it pretty seriously. Not Orthodox, but devout. I know she observes some of the customs and special occasions.”

  Mitchell shook his head in wonder. “Okay, let’s assume you’re correct. What’s the magic word.”

  “Look at it as a message in itself, or a… I don’t know, maybe a…” Guererro’s voice trailed for a moment. “She’s victorious. She’s alive. She’s brought her ship back. What would she say?”

  Mitchell pressed the intercom button. “Mister Rashim, report to the ready room.” He grinned. “Let’s ask a communications expert.”

  Rashim entered a few moments later. “Yes, sir, how can I help?”

  Mitchell pointed to the screen, now blank. “Anything you see in this room is strictly confidential, Lieutenant. I need your expertise on a puzzle, and I want you to review this file contents with us, as you’re from a… different culture, and may help us understand whatever Commander Trachenberg is reporting. Understood?”

  Rashim nodded. “Yes, sir. Whatever I can do, I will.”

  Mitchell activated the screen again, showing the same images. “We’ve deciphered the overall intent.” He pointed. “Here, and here, self-destruct icons. Do you agree?”

  Rashim studied the screen for a moment. “Yes, sir, and the ancient commode is rather shrewd, if I may say so.”

  “The one at the top right we assume to be the entry key. Your thoughts?”

  Rashim nodded. “I’d say so, sir. A woman reading from the Book of Knowledge to open the door to the Truth.”

  Guererro grinned slightly at Rashim’s deduction.

  “What is she saying?” asked Mitchell.

  The Comm Officer was quiet for a long time, thinking. Mitchell offered coffee to Guererro again, but she raised a hand, declining.

  “Mister Rashim?”

  “Sorry, sir, I was thinking not only of what she would say, but why she would say it, thereby offering clues to her words. She is obviously still alive, which assumes her mission was carried out. She sent the message heavily encrypted and with icons the Qoearc would likely not understand, as her report is extremely sensitive.” He paused and looked to Guererro. “The commander is of a specific Earth religion, is she not, Captain?”

  “Jewish. Very old, very traditional, very strict in beliefs. Trachenberg isn’t what they call Orthodox, but her family background is.”

  Rashim nodded. “Therefore, any words to open the door would likely be in her traditional language.”

  Mitchell blew a breath. “I don’t know of anyone on this ship or Marshall who speaks Hebrew.”

  “I speak it, Captain,” replied Rashim. “Though it’s been a while since I had a chance to practice.”

  Mitchell fought the urge to inquire why his Nelphian Comm Officer would study ancient Earth languages. Instead he asked, “Any idea what she would say?”

  “Something relevant. Something giving thanks for her safety and that of her ship. Not so much a prayer, but simply being thankful.”

  “Such as?”

  Rashim thought again. “One issue. We do not know if there are a limited number of attempts allowed. Likely, there are. I would think we must be successful within two or three tries.”

  “Great,” said Mitchell, shaking his head. “But then again, she would know we’d think of this, correct?”

  Rashim smiled slightly. “I hope we are as clever as the commander assumes us to be.”

  “Give it your best, Lieutenant,” said Guererro. “You have our confidence.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Rashim considered again, then nodded to himself. “I would suggest the simple phrase ‘Thanks to God’, spoken in Hebrew. The translation is pronounced ‘Baruch HaShem’. Very traditional.”

  After a moment, Mitchell nodded. “Give it a try, Lieutenant.”

  “Yes, sir.” Rashim faced the screen. “Baruch HaShem.” The words were said in a reverent manner.

  The image cleared. On it was Trachenberg, apparently in her quarters, looking a bit worse for wear, with a large old-fashioned air cast on her left arm.”

  “Captain Mitchell, this is my preliminary report regarding your standing orders given during our last communication. As this message is highly sensitive, I’ll be brief.”

  Trachenberg’s image drank from a glass of water on her table. “Mission accomplished, but at cost. We have casualties and fatalities. Armstrong has sustained heavy damage, but we’re underway to the inner system and should be there within forty-eight hours. I’ve attached our tactical recordings to this message for your further review and analysis. I will report in person as soon as I can. Trachenberg out.”

  The room was quiet for a few minutes as they absorbed the news.

  Rashim nodded to himself again and spoke softly to both Mitchell and Guererro. “She was right, Captains. Thanks indeed.”

  Five

  Hard Labor

  “Duty Log, Captain Harlan Mitchell, 161213.21. EAS Armstrong arrived four hours ago, and is currently hidden behind the Harmony moon, away from prying Qoearc eyes. Commander Trachenberg traveled from her ship to Burlingame via a bit of ‘double-shuffle’ inv
olving Valkyrie fighters. A flight of three left Burlingame, circled the moon, and one was replaced by a fighter from Armstrong, with the second seat occupied by the commander. A slick bit of misdirection, and I have to give her credit again for a very useful tactic.

  In the meantime, the stalemate between our ships, the Qoearc, and the Harmonians continuing refusal to allow us to drive the Qoearc out of the system, is wearing on everyone’s nerves. But the news of Armstrong’s successful battle against a very formidable enemy has raised spirits.

  We have a briefing scheduled in two hours, as soon as Commander Trachenberg is seen by our doctor and confirmed up to the task. I’m sure she is. She is becoming a bit of a celebrity on Burlingame and Marshall. She’s likely already a folk hero on Armstrong.”

  * * *

  EAS Burlingame…

  The ready room was crowded; Mitchell, Guererro, Trachenberg, the XO Allard, Tac-Officer Neunada, Commander Straum, Chief Engineer Satoshi, and, out of courtesy for his help in deciphering the message, Comm Officer Rashim. The meeting had only started when the intercom buzzed.

  Mitchell touched the button. “Yes, Ms. Whitehead?”

  “Signal from the planet, Captain, Elder-First Carmichael asking for you by name.”

  “Put it through in thirty seconds.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Mitchell looked at the faces around the room. “Confidential. Understood?”

  “Aye, sirs” echoed softly from everyone in attendance.

  The screen lit with the haggard-looking face of Carmichael. “Greetings, Captain. Things are not well.”

  Dealing with Qoearc is never pleasant, thought Mitchell before responding. “I’m sorry to hear that, Elder-First. How can we help?”

  “I am speaking to you on a secure circuit. I ask your attendance at the negotiations, so we may resolve this matter for the safety of our world.”

  Mitchell glanced to Guererro, who nodded, smirking. “What precisely is it the Qoearc are asking for, Elder-First?”

  Carmichael chuckled wryly. “At first, everything. We’ve done well enough to get them to consider mining rights in our asteroid belt and harvesting gasses from the outer planet.”

  “Resources, then. But not… subservience from your people, correct?”

  “Well, not currently. But it was in their initial formal demands. These are Qoearc, after all.”

  Mitchell pondered for a moment. “When do you need Earthfleet in attendance, Elder-First? We’re currently in a staff briefing regarding events and would like to conclude before proceeding.”

  Carmichael waved a hand. “The Qoearc have returned to their ship for the evening. Tomorrow morning is fine, say twelve standard hours from now.”

  “So, they’ve been on the planet? How many? Who is in attendance?” Mitchell glanced around the room again.

  “There are three negotiators, Zacan Yiikor among them, and ten ‘honor guards’, as they call them. I have no doubt they would be able to take our council hostage if they wished. That is one reason I’m asking your attendance. The other, of course, is to find a solution.”

  Yes, and now you begin to understand just how Qoearc operate, thought Mitchell again. If they don’t get what they want one way, they’ll get it another. I’m still amazed the Harmonians have held them off this long.

  He drew a breath and spoke. “May I call you back in one hour, Elder-First? We have some details to discuss here.”

  “I will call you, Captain. That way, we can be sure there are no incoming transmissions the Qoearc can trace.”

  Mitchell nodded. “Excellent, sir, and good thinking. Therefore, we will await your call in one hour. What else may we assist with for now?”

  “Nothing, Captain. Thank you.”

  The screen cleared.

  Mitchell scanned the faces around him once again. “Comments?”

  “Still waiting for the other shoe to drop,” said Allard. “This isn’t over, it’s just beginning.”

  Mitchell looked to Guererro, who nodded again. “I agree, Mitch. This could get even more dangerous.”

  “Lieutenant Neunada, have you reviewed Armstrong’s technical files?” asked Mitchell.

  “Yes, sir,” replied the Tactical Officer. He looked to Trachenberg and smiled. “Commander Trachenberg and her crew gave an excellent account of themselves. But the Vrex war cruiser was as tough as I’ve seen. It could have gone either way.”

  Mitchell nodded. “Commander Satoshi, your assessment of Armstrong’s condition?”

  “Not good, sir. The torpedo deck and three decks above are gone. The port hangar deck sustained the most damage from the explosion of the Qoearc ship. Multiple breaches, structural damage, you name it. I’m actually surprised the ship is still space-worthy.”

  Trachenberg frowned. “With respect, Commander Satoshi, my crew did an excellent job of repair and refitting. Our trip back to the inner system was barely over standard time at one-half sublight. Armstrong can still fight.”

  Mitchell caught Guererro’s wink. “Alright, let’s talk about this request for Earth Alliance assistance. Obviously, the Qoearc are pressing the matter and will likely just take over if someone doesn’t stop them. That someone is us. How do we go about it?”

  “We aren’t diplomats, Captain,” said Allard, after a long pause in the room. “Send for a negotiating team from Fleet Base Twenty-four and hold off the Qoearc until then.”

  “How do we do that?” asked Guererro. “We can’t use weapons in the system, even though the Qoearc already have. My guess is, that’s how Harmony has won what concessions they’ve gotten. How do we drive the Qoearc out without exchanging fire?”

  “Captain Mitchell.” Trachenberg sat straighter in her chair, the air-cast still on her arm. “I renew my request; allow me to negotiate our position. Negotiation is another form of battle, one the Qoearc are beginning to understand more. If I’m successful, we can get out of this without further combat. If nothing else, it can give you time to contact Fleet Base Twenty-four for diplomatic assistance and backup if it’s available. But my personal opinion is, the Qoearc want us there to defeat us at the table if we can’t fight in space.”

  “No, I’ll go,” replied Guererro, looking at Mitchell. “My XO can sit in the command seat and watch the Qoearc.”

  Trachenberg turned to face the taller Guererro. “Captain, you and I both know the regs. Commanding officers are not to leave their ships when on Standby Alert or Battle Stations. The Book is very specific.”

  “Yet here we are,” replied Guererro, nearly grinning. “On Standby Alert.”

  Mitchell shook his head. “That’s all, Commander. This is above your pay grade.”

  “No, sir, it’s not. I’m Acting Captain aboard Armstrong. You ordered me into a combat situation against an untested enemy, as you would any ship captain. Your words were “any means necessary”, which I interpreted independent of specific orders. I’ve proven the ability to think on my feet.” She drew a breath and stood straighter. “I deserve the chance. I can do this.”

  The room was silent once again, and at last Mitchell showed a wry grin. “Haven’t we had this conversation, Commander?”

  “Yes, sir. We’ll likely have it again, is my thought.”

  Mitchell grinned fully now. “No…we won’t. Very well, Commander, take your best shot at this and at the least, as you said, buy us some time. We’ll contact Fleet Base Twenty-four as soon as possible.”

  “Sir.” Rashim stood. “Request permission to accompany the commander. I’m from a culture similar to that of Harmony. Our world is pacifist as well, and I may be able to… assist the commander in understanding the Harmonian side of the discussions.” He gave Trachenberg a quick glance. “I believe she understands the Qoearc position very well at this point.”

  “You have no formal training in diplomatic matters, Mister Rashim.”

  “No sir. However, my grandmother was a member of the council who negotiated the agreement for Altair Four to join the Earth Alliance. My
minor at the Academy was Political Science, and I hold a Master’s Degree in psychology.”

  Mitchell glanced around the room. Allard shrugged. Neunada said nothing. Satoshi actually gave a slight bow to Trachenberg and Rashim. The captain held Guererro’s gaze for a long time, then nodded at last. “Proceed. Good luck to both of you.”

  * * *

  Harmony…

  The Harmonian space control gave strict instructions to all ships: Orbit at specific coordinates, out of each other’s field of fire, away from shuttle range between ships, and provide proof all weapons were powered down and sealed. It took some time.

  For whatever reason, the Qoearc complied without comment, leading Mitchell to surmise they had been sufficiently cowed at the bargaining table and weren’t certain the Harmony government didn’t have the means to blast them out of space if they decided to. Mitchell had to laugh. He had never seen Qoearc so perplexed or compliant. He confirmed Rashim had recordings and backups of all communications. This would be invaluable to Earth Alliance diplomats. And make great tabloid news for the nets once it was declassified. Or “leaked”.

  Trachenberg and Rashim arrived in the capital city that afternoon by way of shuttle, and with little fanfare. No security detail, no sidearms, only wrist communicators and a small medikit. They were met by Elder-Third Clovis, who showed them through a promenade, then a small park area, then to the stately government building complex. They were given a suite of rooms, decorated and furnished simply, with two bedrooms and a small common room between them. Then he was gone, saying he would return in the early evening for private discussions.

  Rashim motioned to the ceiling, then the floor, making a circle around each, then pointed to the rooms aside. Trachenberg held a finger to her lips; “shh”. They searched light fixtures on the walls, under tables, shined their medi-light into vents, and looked beneath the beds. No listening or video devices were found. Nothing. At last they closed the bedroom doors and sat by the window, looking out on a peaceful shoreline scene.

  “This is far too cordial,” said Trachenberg. “There is no urgency, no indication of a world at risk. Frankly, I don’t understand.”