Legacy of the Saiph

by P P Corcoran

  As if sensing Calan’s confusion Okal reached into a pocket and produced a slim, translucent plastic card, etched with a thin gold-colored circuit, and held it against the side of Calan’s comms pack.

  The circuitry glowed briefly, before returning to its original state.

  Seemingly satisfied, Okal returned the card to his pocket on his uniform’s forearm. “I have taken the liberty, Captain Calan, of retrieving and copying this communication device’s translation software. I will upload the program to Chera, my ship’s artificial intelligence. It will make our future conversations more succinct.” As if on cue, a gentle beep came from the speaker built into the airlock’s inner door frame.

  “Commander.” Calan’s ears heard a soft feminine voice say in perfect Alonan. “Translation upload is completed and assimilated. I am now fluent in Captain Calan’s language and others contained in his primitive equipment.”

  “Primitive?” Blurted Calan.

  Again, the chattering sound of Okal’s laughter filled the airlock. “Please forgive Chera, Captain. She can appear somewhat aloof.”

  “Commander.” Chera interjected. “I detect an Alonan small-craft maneuvering to dock with the outer lock.”

  “Ah.” Said Okal. “That’ll be for you, Captain.” Okal stepped back through the inner airlock door. “I have downloaded a communication’s frequency into your device. Chera will monitor it. When you’ve appraised your superiors, I will await your answer to our offer. Meanwhile, I must revive the remainder of my crew and ascertain the status of our embryo banks.”

  The inner door closed leaving Calan alone in the airlock, once more. Hurriedly, he re-dressed, double-checked the seals of his pressure suit and turned to the alien control panel covered in Saiph symbols.

  He had no idea which sequence depressurized the lock and opened the outer door.

  He need not have worried, either a crew member, or more likely Chera, had been surveilling him, for his suit’s system reported:

  AIRLOCK DEPRESSURIZING

  As the airlock reached vacuum, the outer door slid to one side. A shuttle door hovered, only two or three meters beyond, and the outer door of its personnel lock lay already opened. Two suited figures hung from magnetic grips on either side of the open lock.

  Upon seeing him they activated the maneuvering packs on their backs and glided effortlessly toward him. As they reached Calan, they pirouetted in unison and came to a halt on either side of him. Calan reached out and slipped an arm through the handling hooks on the rear of each maneuvering pack.

  “Secure.” He said over his suit’s radio. Small thrusters on each suit carried Calan toward the waiting Alonan vessel.

  Calan wondered how he would convey the news of his astounding discovery to General Lura.

  ✽✽✽

  The recording ended for the third time and the side room off the main control room, that General Lura had had cleared of all personnel, at the insistence of Captain Calan, descended into silence.

  Chief Scientist Kilor, the only other person present, besides Calan and the general, struggled to keep the one thousand and one questions, that he wanted to barrage Calan with, in check. Instead, he remained silent, for the look on General Lura’s face was one of profound thought.

  Calan had stood while the communication device, he had carried while aboard the Saiph vessel, replayed his entire conversation with Commander Okal. Hearing that the alien vessel was of Saiph construction and real, live, Saiph were still aboard it had initially shocked Kilor. That shock had quickly turned to fear as he, like Calan, thought these Saiph were the same as those who had spread nuclear death over the Balat colony.

  The revelation that the Saiph crewing the Black Ships were, in fact, enemies of these Saiph and these Saiph were willing to assist the Empire in its war against the Black Ships, had flung the scientist’s mind into a whirlwind of overlapping possibilities.

  Armed with Saiph weaponry the Empire could not only defend itself against the Black Ships, but it would be a generation ahead of the best the Commonwealth had to offer and would have a similar edge on anything the Turak had yet revealed on the field of battle. Lura spoke for the first time and ended Kilor’s musing.

  “Okal states that he has no connection with those of his race who are in control of the Black Ships?” He asked Calan.

  Calan peeled his eyes from the rear bulkhead, where he had them fixed, as he stood to attention in front of the seated general and scientist to make eye contact with Lura. “That is what he stated, General.”

  Lura rubbed his bottom lip absently before asking his next question. “And he went as far as describing the leader of these Black Ships as a criminal and offered to assist us by providing the Empire with advanced technology to combat this Leader?”

  “Correct, General.” Answered Calan succinctly while wishing that Lura would stop asking him questions that he already knew the answer to because he had heard it on the recording twice. A spasm ran through Calan’s left leg and he flexed his toes in order to shake the cramp off. Standing to attention while Lura and Kilor listened intently to the recording, twice, from their comfortable seats was taking its toll.

  The captain’s involuntary muscle spasm did not go unnoticed by Lura who waved a hand in the direction of a spare seat. “Sit down, Captain, before you fall down.”

  Calan gratefully sank into the proffered seat, as a wave of exhaustion swept over him. His body craved sleep, now, the adrenalin which filled his system during his encounter with Okal had drained from him.

  “Mala!” Called Lura and, as if by magic, the general’s aide appeared in the open doorway. “Fetch some gilon.” Calan’s ears perked up at the name of the expensive herbal beverage. Served hot and sweet, gilon’s recuperative properties were almost legendary. His body may crave slumber but a large cup of gilon would keep him going until the opportunity to fall into his bunk arose.

  “At once, General.” Replied Mala with a curt nod before, once more, vanishing.

  Lura returned his attention to his interrogation of Calan. “Okal claims he had no outside contact since he entered this- suspended animation?”

  Calan nodded wearily.

  “And as such, has no idea of the events that have unfolded in that time?” Pressed Lura.

  “Correct, General.” Answered Calan his voice beginning to betray his growing impatience at his superior simply repeating information that he already knew.

  Kilor sat forward as he caught the tone of the captain’s answer, nervously flicking his eyes in the direction of Lura who, either chose to ignore the implication in the tired, younger Alonan’s answer or simply did not care. The General was, after all, the closest thing to the Emperor in this star system. Still, Kilor decided this might be an opportune moment to intervene on Captain Calan’s behalf before the junior officer said something which would incur the wrath of Lura.

  “Perhaps...” Began Kilor only for the door to open and the general’s aide, Mala, to enter bearing a tray with a jug of steaming Gilon and three cups. The room lapsed into silence as Mala placed the tray on a side table and proceeded to pour three portions of the Gilon, its herbal fragrance subtly infused the room. Mala exited the room after he had served each of the occupants and the door automatically closed behind him, leaving the three men sequestered once more.

  General Lura absently sipped at his gilon ostensibly oblivious to the presence of the other two, his eyes unfocused as his brain worked on something he had not chosen to share with the others. Calan was simply happy for the pause in the questioning and gratefully partook of his gilon, closing his eyes to savor the rich flavor. Kilor, on the other hand, held his cup in both hands without drinking from it. Watching Lura through the steam rising from the hot gilon he wondered what was going on inside the military man’s head. Kilor knew better than to interrupt, so remained silent and waited for Lura to work through whatever he was considering.

  Seconds stretched into a minute. The minute morphed into five minutes and the five minutes
became ten. From Calan came the gentle sound of a snore and Kilor could not help the smile tugging at his lips, at the sight of the captain slouched in his seat, with the now empty cup precariously perched on the seat’s armrest. Hmm, gilon’s miraculous recuperating effects are a myth after all, thought Kilor as he stood as quietly as he could and retrieved the captain’s empty cup before the inevitable happened and the cup tumbled and smashed on the deck. Gently, he prized Calan’s fingers from around the cup and returned it to the tray that Mala had delivered them on.

  “A wise move, my friend.” Said Lura in a hushed voice, startling Kilor who nearly knocked over the cup he had so carefully retrieved.

  “You will be the death of me one day if you keep creeping about like that.” Joked the scientist as he caught the playful look in Lura’s eyes. A look that in a single blink became serious again.

  “I believe the good captain has presented us with an opportunity.”

  “How so?” Asked Kilor.

  “By not revealing any details of the outside world to Okal during their initial meeting. We have the opportunity to construct a narrative which exploits Okal’s stated desire to aid in the fight against the Black Ships.”

  Kilor pondered Lura’s words for a moment. “You mean lie to Okal.”

  Lura shrugged as he reached to refill his cup. “Lie; Mislead; Forget to mention certain facts; Enhance the Empire’s version of the truth. Call it what you will, friend Kilor. We tell Okal that we are the last remaining Seed World. Despite the victorious battle with the Others, the battle left -” Lura took a sip of his Gilor before continuing, “left the Seed Worlds’ defense in tatters and made them easy prey for the Black Ships, who pounced on the now defenseless worlds and erased them from existence.”

  A loud “Hmm.” Escaped Kilor. “Something which may still happen.”

  Lura pointed a thin finger at the scientist. “Exactly. A deception sprinkled with enough truth to make it believable.”

  A worry line appeared on Kilor’s brow. “But to what end?”

  “We reveal the truth about the purpose of Foram. Well, near as damn it- the Empire’s last-ditch attempt to build warships capable of standing against the Black Ships. A shipyard hidden from prying eyes because we fear the Black Ships know the location of our home world after the attack on Balat.”

  “Mmm, and if Okal is truthful, he will give us access to his ships’ technology. Technology which is at least equal to the Black Ships, never mind the Commonwealth and the Turak.” Kilor found himself becoming caught up in Lura’s scheme until the worry line on his brow transformed into a full-fledged frown. “But, how do we stop Okal from finding out the truth?

  “The truth?” Lura asked with a chortle. “The truth as far as Okal is concerned is what we tell him. Given time I’m sure we will fathom Okal’s reasoning for hiding in Foram. Meanwhile, we play the imperial security card and prevent him from leaving the system. For his own, and our, protection of course.

  Only the Gods know where the Black Ships are, and the discovery of this shipyard would be disastrous. We must keep contact with Okal and his crew to an absolute minimum.” Lura indicated the slouched form of Calan. “The good captain will act as liaison and will shadow Okal wherever he goes.”

  “And absolutely no access to navigational or intelligence data.” Added Kilor.

  Lura raised his cup in agreement. “Fabricate some excuse, like the new warships’ information nets are kept clean until the last moment in case of capture or compromise. Look, these are all details we can work out as they present themselves.”

  “I’m not sure I like the idea of lying to Okal, though.” Admitted Kilor.

  “I can see no other way.” Said Lura. “Are you willing to take the chance that Okal might offer to share his technology with the Commonwealth or the Turak?” Lura fixed Kilor with steady eyes.

  After a moment’s hesitation Kilor shook his head.

  Satisfied, Lura raised his half empty cup of gilon. “For the good of the Empire.”

  “For the good of the Empire.” Repeated Kilor to the gentle snoring of the sleeping Captain Calan who remained blissfully unaware of the part he was to play in Lura’s plans.

  ✽✽✽

  Okal prowled the metal walkways that formed the heart of the Savior. Ignoring the chill in the air caused by the banks of refrigeration units which filled every spare inch of the space. Okal was too restless to lie in his soft bed and sleep. The Saiph commander had done enough sleeping for a lifetime and his head still swirled from the news his meeting with the Alonan General Lura had brought.

  The now familiar anger, no despair, swelled in Okal once more.

  The images of death, on a scale he found difficult to comprehend, which the Leader and, his unwitting puppets the Others, had brought to the galaxy. The home world scrubbed clean of life in the name of Saiph superiority. The Seed Worlds hunted, one after another.

  Thousands of years of intricate genetic manipulation laid waste under nuclear bombardment. Then of course there was the collateral damage. It seemed the Leader was not to be satisfied with destroying the Seed Worlds. The Others had seen to it that any civilization they had encountered suffered the same fate as the Seed Worlds. Worlds the Elders never imagined existed, died at the bidding of the Leader.

  When Lura had finished telling Okal of the events that forced the Alonan Empire to hide their shipyard away what they called the Foram System, Okal shared with them his own journey which had led to him and his crew’s presence here.

  The attempted coup by the Leader, his subsequent confinement and escape as he and his followers fled the home world and disappeared among the myriad of stars that made up the night sky.

  The Elders’ realization that, one day, the Leader may return to threaten the intricate planning that had established the Seed Worlds. The Elders had decided long ago, after the disastrous encounter with a primitive early space-capable race that colonization of other worlds was not compatible with Saiph philosophy. Hence the abandonment of the colonization program. Something abhorrent to the Leader who advocated the superiority of the Saiph as a race and its predetermined place as the supreme being of the galaxy.

  The Leader’s escape and the threat he posed, forced the Elders to either amend their outlook or consign themselves and the Seed Worlds to whatever fate the Leader decided upon.

  The progenitor ships became the Elders’ answer.

  Each ship was tasked to visit a star system close to a Seed World and establish a Library containing the accumulated knowledge of the Saiph civilization; then they would find another star system, this time devoid of life-bearing planets, their crew would enter artificial hibernation in safety and emerge, in a thousand years, in to a galaxy which had long since seen the scourge of the Leader and his followers turned to dust. With their precious cargo the Savior and her sister ships, carrying the Saiph, would survive as a race and be capable of rebuilding, perhaps even, of becoming a greater, more enlightened civilization than they were.

  Okal rested his hands on a guard rail, his head bowed, eyes closed. The Elders’ worst fears had come true, according to what the Alonans had told him.

  The planet of his birth was no more and the crushing burden of the survival of his race now sat heavy upon his shoulders.

  “Pardon the interruption, Commander.” The soft voice of Savior’s AI, Chera, broke into his dark thoughts.

  Okal pushed himself upright. “Go ahead, Chera.”

  “All crew members are revived and have been examined by medical technicians. The crew are gathered on the mess deck in accordance with your orders, Commander.”

  “Thank you, Chera.” Replied Okal. “And the search program?”

  Okal detected a momentary pause before the AI answered. “There are no transmissions from other progenitor vessels at this time, Commander. However, the distances involved, and the background interference generated by the Alonans’ communications and their ships’ drives may hinder their detection. May I suggest a solution,
Commander?”

  “Of course, Chera.”

  “A drone launched into clear space, up to three light-years from here, will increase my chances of detecting one of my sisters’ transmissions by 287.42 percent, Commander.”

  Okal dismissed Chera’s solution, out of hand. “Not yet, Chera. Launching a probe, without clearing it with the Alonans, may lead to a few questions from our new allies.”

  “So, we are allying ourselves with the Alonans, Commander?” Asked Chera.

  “For the moment. It’s our best course of action.” The first wisps of guilt entered Okal’s thoughts. “If the Alonans are telling the truth, then we are responsible for the threat they face.”

  “You assume General Lura’s information is, in fact, the truth, Commander.”

  “Yes, Chera, perceptive as always.” A wry smile crossed Okal’s lips. “It would be prudent of us to ensure the validity of the Alonan facts.”

  “The Alonan computer systems’ firewalls do not represent a challenge to me, Commander” Chera stated.

  “Subtle as a brick, Chera.” Said Okal with a small chuckle, which drove the guilt away. The more pressing challenge of his primary mission came to the fore; their survival- his, his crews’ and his races’ to be precise.

  “Very well Chera. With extreme caution, probe the Alonan’s systems. Prioritize historical and navigational databases and search for any inconsistencies in the Alonan’s story.”

  “Very well, Commander.”

  Orders given, Okal squared his shoulders and headed for the mess deck to brief his crew.

  CHAPTER TWO

  BOARD OF INQUIRY

  TERRAN DEFENSE FORCE | NAVAL HEADQUARTERS | CARSON CITY | EARTH | SOL SYSTEM

  The sharp sound of the ship’s bell, rung by the presiding member of the inquiry board, cut across the dark oak paneled hearing room and caused John to flinch.

  A commander from the Judge Advocate General’s Corps sitting beside him did not notice his movements or, at least, she chose not to react to his involuntary start.