The Chance Encounter: The Linda Eccles Series - Book One

by Robert Woodard

  “Yes, Overlord.”

  Reaching the sliding door that separated the control chamber from the main passageway, Sinska slipped the claws of his right hand into the door slots. Flinging the door to one side, the natural curvature of the slots allowed his claws to gracefully slide back out as the door moved sideways.

  Sinska soon arrived at his chamber. Pacing for a few beats, he let his mind work on formulating the message he would send. Stopping, he could just imagine the crazy stir this would cause the Masterlords when they were informed that a ship had followed the first object into Remp. How does one respond to such a message? Sinska continued his pacing while figuring that was a problem for the Council.

  Finally formulating the message in his mind, Sinska slid into his chair. Looking at the small black squares, each containing a different symbol that represented the Kracks language, he began to type. Striking the first symbol with his right claw, he followed that up with a quick peck with his left claw. The words seemed to come quickly as the message flowed onto the screen.

  Satisfied with the message, Sinska transferred it to the transmitting module so it could be sent. He wondered what the Council Members would think of his launching of a buoy. Would they find that a stroke of genius—perhaps something to congratulate him for when the Tail Whip returned? He had to admit that it was very inventive, and he hoped the Masterlords would think so, too. Even if it was the overling that came up with the actual idea, wasn’t he the one who asked the question and took action to make it happen?

  Looking at the screen before him, Sinska tried to imagine what orders he would receive from the Council once they finished arguing among themselves. Shaking his head over the silliness of how the Masterlords tended to act toward each other, Sinska now waited for a reply.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Linda quickly changed in preparation for returning to the bridge. Due to the extended time needed to cover the distance to the object, she set the ship on regular crew rotation. This also allowed Bill some respite from sitting in emergency control.

  The sleep she managed to obtain, along with freshening up, had gone a long way in improving her overall spirit. She had to admit that her sour mood of late had begun to grind on her own nerves. The Privateer had been in this strange system for a full Rapatine day now, and so far, the place had remained quiet. Whatever had interfered with the probe didn’t seem to have remained in the area. Linda felt thankful for that.

  Studying herself in the mirror, she noted the shorter haircut she had obtained before leaving Rapatine had finally grown out, and she was happy for it. While the cropped look may work on others, Linda felt it made her look like a failed attempt to recapture her youth. Now resting on her shoulders, she liked the length much better.

  Snatching a colorful cloth tie off the small countertop, she reached up and pulled her hair back behind her head, securing it there with the elastic tie. After a final inspection of her overall appearance, Linda headed for the bridge. The Privateer was finally nearing the object, and she looked forward to getting a good look at it.

  When Linda stepped onto the bridge, she could see the object emerging from the darkness. Its metallic skin reflected the powerful forward lights emitting from the Privateer. Moving to her chair, she alternated studying the strange-looking device from both the enhanced viewer and the front portals. The purpose of the device stilled held its mystery, but at least she could see what it looked like now.

  “Nav, ahead slow,” Linda ordered to reduce speed.

  “Reducing speed to slow, yes, Captain,” the Specialist responded at the same time the forward jets began making popping noises to bleed off momentum.

  “It reminds me of those old Earth satellites we learned about in school,” Sharon said. She had vacated the command chair when Linda arrived and now stood off to one side.

  Nodding, Linda had to agree that it did look like it. Its expanded wings and round disc clearly looked to her like an object meant to receive and send signals just like a satellite. What caught her interest was the dome on the top of the object that slowly spun. It had holes in it, evenly spaced, that reminded her of old-styled camera lenses.

  “Do you think this thing is picking up and relaying signals between two places?” Sharon asked.

  “I don’t know. It seems like an odd placement for it, but I suppose so,” Linda answered while still studying the spinning disc. “That disc on the top reminds me of the old radar domes ships used to carry back in the day.”

  “Maybe it’s a stationary probe?”

  “If it is, whoever owns this thing now knows we’re here,” Linda said. “I think we are close enough. All stop.”

  ◆◆◆

  Ensign Marcy Hawk sat at the communication station trying to keep a low profile. Having intercepted the specialist about to come on duty, she redirected him to allow her to take his place on the bridge. A smile came to her face in knowing that the Captain would see right through whatever flimsy excuse she offered for being there. So far, Linda appeared preoccupied by the strange object to have even noticed her presence.

  Figuring that sooner or later she would get noticed, Marcy decided to make it look like she was testing the ship-to-ship communication system. She tapped the communication icon on the console and then selected ship-to-shuttle. Another set of options appeared that allowed her to select which shuttle to communicate with; each having their own frequency range. Selecting shuttle number one brought up a simulated dial with the correct megahertz already displaying in the center using red numbers.

  While listening to Linda and Sharon talking, Marcy put her finger over the image of the disk, and slowly worked her hand in a counterclockwise motion. After a few minutes, she turned her head to look at the dial again and noticed that she had nearly come around to where the dial had started. She tapped reset and watched the numbers on the dial return to the preset range that synced to the shuttle.

  Since she was pretending to test the system, Marcy figured she might as well look the part. Slipping her hand under the console, she slid out a small drawer. Looking inside, she found the headset that mimicked the ones used on the shuttles. It was a simple device that slipped into one ear with a microphone resting against her cheek. Slipping the headpiece on, she adjusted the microphone until it positioned just off the corner of her mouth.

  Leaning back in the chair, Marcy took in the sight of the alien object. Static filled her ear from the headset. Mindlessly, she let her finger turn the dial again. When the conversation on the bridge died down, Marcy glanced at the image of the dial and noticed it had dropped below the 100-megahertz range now. Still hearing nothing but static, she playfully flicked the dial’s image with her middle finger that sent it spinning while the frequency indicator kept pace.

  A brief high-pitched squeal hit her eardrum before it disappeared as the dial spun. Stunned, Marcy sat up straight and quickly stopped the dial by placing her finger on it again. Slowly, she reversed its direction to climb back up the frequencies. Her eyes focused on the megahertz as her ear listened for even a hint of that squeal.

  Marcy’s eyes went wide when the static faded, and a soft squeal began to increase in her ear. Moving her finger ever so slowly, she found the exact center of the signal band. Listening intently, the noise went through a range of squeals, pops, chattering and low-range tones that failed to make any sense to her.

  Her trained ear told her this had to be a transmitted set of signals of some kind. It was too erratic to be an anomaly. Suddenly realizing she needed to be capturing this signal, she tapped the record icon that brought up a set of zeroes that began counting upward a second at a time. She then hit the lock icon to freeze the frequency where it was in case the message ended.

  The excitement of the find made her hands shake. Just about to spin around to tell the Captain, Marcy realized she should find out where the signal came from first. Bringing up the tactical display on the monitor in front of her, she then fed in the receiver frequency. The results were instan
taneous, as a pulsating green line appeared on the screen. It ran from the ship to the planet off to their left.

  Switching over to the sensor data, she looked at how the signal struck the sensor array. She expected to see the wide band of the signal expanding as it moved away from where the signal originated. Instead, she found the band remained narrow. It also struck the very edge of the sensor disk and had almost missed the antenna completely. She figured it was a sheer stroke of luck that they picked up the signal at all. Had the ship not stopped where it had, she had no doubt she would have missed the signal altogether.

  Feeling she had enough information now to make a solid report, she spun around in her chair to face Linda, and said, “Captain, I’m picking up a signal at 82.3 megahertz. The signal appears to be a tight-beam transmission, and tactical shows it is coming from the planet on our left labeled P4.”

  “A signal, are you sure?” Linda asked, frowning back at her.

  “Yes, Captain. There is no doubt it is a signal of some kind.”

  “Let me hear it,” Linda ordered.

  Marcy turned back to the console and tapped on the route icon. She then selected bridge, and overhead. The bridge suddenly filled with the sound of the strange transmission as it radiated down from the overhead speakers.

  “It sure isn’t music,” Sharon said.

  “No, it sure isn’t,” Linda responded but continued to listen to it. Finally, she said, “Okay, Marcy, I think that is enough for now.”

  Marcy cut off the routing that quieted the bridge. For several minutes, no one said a word while Linda stared out the front portal at the strange object in front of them. Finally, Sharon said, “Maybe it is just a relay. There must be a transmitter on that planet using this object to bounce the signal somewhere else; one of the other planets, perhaps.”

  “I don’t think so, Commander,” Marcy chimed in. “The signal is not aimed at the object in front of us. Either someone has very bad aim or the message is being sent somewhere else.”

  “If it’s not transmitted to this object than where is it heading?” Sharon asked.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t project out the path beyond the Privateer. I’ll do that now.”

  Marcy spun around in her chair to work the console again. Switching back to tactical, she tapped a fingernail on the green pulsating line. When a small window appeared with options, she selected expand. A green line continued across the monitor, as if it cut the back off the Privateer, and disappeared off the edge of the screen.

  “The path of the signal appears to head out into open space,” Marcy reported. “It passes between the two planets on our right. It’s definitely beyond the range of what the tactical computer has been able to map so far. From what I can tell, though, it doesn’t appear to be aimed at anything in this system.”

  “This place is getting stranger by the minute,” Linda said, although her comment did not seem to be directed at anyone in particular. “We have a destroyed probe with no idea what destroyed it. An object hanging out here that seems like a communication relay, but no one is using it, and someone is sending a message to no one. Can this place get any weirder?”

  “Perhaps it’s time to exit this place, Captain,” Sharon said

  “Your right, Commander,” Linda said. “We got our scan and visual image of this thing now, and that should be good enough for those who will wish to study it.” Linda looked over at Marcy. “Did you record any of that signal?”

  “Yes, Captain. I started the recording as soon as I discovered it.”

  “Good job, Ensign,” Linda said. Looking at Sharon, Linda ordered, “Work with Marcy to update Rapatine of our current status. Request a response. Once we get it, we’ll begin our exit.”

  “Yes, Captain,” Sharon said as she walked over to Marcy.

  And the sooner the better, Marcy told herself. This place gives me the creeps.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Masterlord Quiver lightly strummed the claws on his right hand on the council table. As was typical, the latest discussion had transformed into a shouting match between two sides. On one side, Triff thundered away, with Rentum in support, while on the other side Wiskum shouting his own ideas, with Klickest throwing in the occasional rational argument. One thing Quiver had learned long ago was that if he did not let them argue it out for a while, the discussion would always revert back to this current state of useless bickering.

  With one eye focused on Triff and the other on Wiskum, Quiver bided his time until the right moment presented itself to intervene. Between the shouts back and forth, Quiver pulled in slivers of random ideas on which to build an overall plan. Of course, it would never appeal to both sides, but it would be a plan that didn’t favor one side over the other.

  This current argument had been going on for quite some time now, and due to the seriousness of the discussion, Quiver let them rant. Who could ever have imagined that a ship would actually make an appearance into that system? Quiver had never expected something like this to happen in his lifetime. Now that it had, what was he supposed to do about it? That very question carried throughout the ongoing argument.

  With his claws strumming the table, Quiver tried to figure out what to do about this ship. Fortunately, as long as the Tail Whip remained hidden from sight, they had time to plan a course of action. But what? Someone was showing interest in the Remp system, although how anyone could find that place useful went beyond his understanding. At least Remp provided distance from Kracks. It would have been far worse if this ship had appeared above Kracks itself, but still, he knew the ship needed to be dealt with in some manner.

  Could the best course of action be to let the ship go, perhaps none the wiser it even was seen? Quiver pondered on that thought for a beat. Would letting that ship come and go only invite others of their kind to do the same later? Without knowing the answer to that question, the rationale proved hard for him to analyze. Something had drawn this ship into the Remp system, and the reason for that seemed to be the key. Was it to determine what happened to the first object or a planned entry regardless? Were more ships lined up behind this one, already making their way for the Remp system? The more the questions piled up the faster his claws strummed on the table

  Perhaps the best approach to this problem would be to capture the ship, which seemed to Quiver to be the prudent thing to do. They could then learn as much about this ship and those within it as they could. This would allow them to get a better understanding of what creatures they were up against, along with studying this new prey and their technology. Yes, that did seem like the best option. They had the Tail Whip right there to do it, too. Of course, the Tail Whip would need help, and that would have to come together rapidly.

  While the arguments still ran strong, Quiver felt ready to gain control of this organized chaos. Sitting up straight, he pulled his claws off the table and studied his fellow council members. Before he even attempted to say anything, he already knew that Triff and Rentum would be against his plan, while Wiskum and Klickest would probably swing his way. With their support, he could get it done. Without it, they were doomed to degrade into another round of arguments.

  With determination to succeed, Quiver curled his claws onto his palm and wrapped loudly on the table. The sharp report of solid claws on the unforgiving rock rang out, echoing off the walls and ceiling. While Rentum and Klickest responded to the sound, Triff and Wiskum kept shouting at each other. Quiver pounded harder, and that seemed to do the trick, as the chamber finally went quiet.

  “Masterlords, time is running short. We have a wonderful opportunity to study the technology and behaviors of these creatures showing an intelligence level equal to our own. Is this not what Masterlords of the past had tried to find when they first sent our ships into space? Since when does a Kracks run from a potentially new prey? I suggest we grab this ship and find out what we have here.”

  “No! You invite death to us all. This ship does not know where we are. I have no intention of letting you lead
it here so others may follow!” Triff shouted.

  “I take offense to your accusation, Masterlord!” Wiskum yelled back at Triff. “There is no creature out there that I fear. Let them come. Those in my gugg will feast on their flesh.”

  “I agree!” Rentum thundered. “No prey can make me hide from it.”

  It seemed to Quiver that Triff never learned. He fell into the exact same trap he created with the first object by questioning the bravery of the Kracks as a whole. Wiskum had risen out of his chair when he spoke, displaying a clear challenge to Triff if he tried to hold onto his believe that the Kracks could not defend their planet.

  Seeing a perfect opportunity, Quiver quickly said, “I would like to have a vote of approval on capturing this ship and bringing it back to Kracks. This will include forming a small fleet to send to Remp to accomplish the task. We have a great opportunity, Masterlords. Let us not waste it. We can stop this ship from reporting back what it found, and we can find out what we will be dealing with if more arrive in the future.”

  All but Triff tapped on the table. Triff, in his usual defiant manner, slowly moved his arm over the table, and then produced a single soft tap. Quiver had expected a much harder fight in getting his wishes across, but thanks to Triff’s outburst, it went smoothly.

  “Good,” Quiver said. “I will have Overlord Sinska notified of our decision. While the Tail Whip keeps an eye on the ship, I will work with Overlord Jeftrick to get a fleet ready to go to Remp to assist in the capture. That is all for today, Masterlords.”

  As the others filed out of the chamber, Overlord Ridnig approached. “What are your orders, Masterlord?”

  “Send a message to Overlord Sinska that he is to continue to monitor the ship from his current location. If the ship attempts to leave the Remp system, he is to detain it in whatever manner he sees fit. Secondly, send a runner to fetch Overlord Jeftrick. Lastly, bring me the fleet list and the docking station layout, so I can review it.”