by James Rosone
Hunt downed the rest of his drink and placed the empty glass down on the coffee table next to his chair. He leaned forward, sizing up his two visitors before he spoke. “The Zodarks control several planets where they have enslaved other humans, just like myself. I want to liberate them. How much grief are the Altairians going to give me if I present a military proposal to do just that?”
“Did the Altairians give you plans to build a series of ships for you?” the Tully general asked.
Hunt furrowed his brow and nodded.
“Here is my suggestion: learn how to build these ships yourself,” Atiku said. “Take all the technology they’ve given you and figure out how to replicate it. You want to make your ships completely independent of their technological parts and components. As long as your ships are operated by their technology, their economy, the Altairians will always have a way of controlling you. I’m not saying you joined the wrong side in this war—the Collective is much worse—but the Altairians have their own designs for the galaxy, and they may not always align with our own.”
Bjork interjected to add, “There is a reason why this war has been raging for hundreds of years without coming to an end. Not everyone wants to end the war.”
Now Hunt believed he was finally getting to the truth. “I’ve thought that before, but why? What is to be gained by fighting a never-ending war?”
“Think about it. The Altairians don’t really fight in this war,” Bjork explained. “They’ve equipped and trained all of us ‘lesser’ species to fight it for them. This has given them hundreds of years of peace and stability to build, grow, and develop while only participating in minor skirmishes or maybe one or two major battles or campaigns. It isn’t their population doing the dying or putting all their resources into fighting this war. We are, and you, now that you’ve joined the alliance.”
“Hasn’t anyone thought about creating a new alliance?” Hunt asked. “One that strives for either victory or peace with the Zodarks and Orbots?”
The Tully general shook his head. “It had been talked about in the past. The problem is, none of our races have the technological superiority to stand against the Orbots on our own, let alone the Collective if they ever showed up. It’s because of our strategic alliance with the Gallentines that we rarely ever have to face a Collective ship. If several members broke away from the Empire, we’d be entirely on our own. Without the aid of the Altairians, most of our worlds would struggle to stand up against the Zodarks and the Orbots at the same time.”
Miles thought about that for a moment. “Then we need to find a way to increase our independence from them,” he asserted.
“That’s easier said than done,” Bjork said glumly.
Hunt chuckled. “My friend, have you not seen how we inferior humans have been kicking the crap out of the Zodarks for the last twelve years? Every battle we’ve fought against them, we’ve won. They have better armor, better lasers, faster propulsion systems, yet each time we fight them, we find a way to win.”
“You humans have gotten lucky, that is all,” Atiku interjected.
“Really? Luck?” Hunt said, his left eyebrow raised. “Is that what destroyed eight Orbot ships in the battle of Rass? It’s not luck, my friend. It’s strategy. We humans are clever and aggressive. We know how to fight, and we also know how to win.”
“How is it humans have developed such a warrior class of a society? I’ve heard stories about your military…I think they are called Special Forces, Deltas maybe.”
“My people have been at war with each other since our inception,” Hunt replied. “We have spent more than a million years fighting and killing each other. Humans excel at war and killing. Our history is unfortunately riddled with one battle after another. I hate to say this, but it’s in our genes. I think this is particularly true of my previous country.
“Before the Republic was formed, our planet was broken down into three major factions. My faction was called the Republic. We eventually absorbed the other factions, but prior to being called the Republic, we were called the United States of America. For more than a hundred years, my country was the most dominant military force on the planet. We waged nearly endless conflict for more than two hundred years in one form or another. It was through this history of warfare that we developed a warrior ethos and class. It’s allowed us to push ourselves harder and farther than any soldier we’ve ever encountered.”
“You really think your soldiers are better than the Zodarks or the Orbots?” Atiku asked skeptically.
“Atiku, I mean no disrespect when I say this, but our soldiers called Deltas have never lost a battle against the Zodarks or the Orbots,” Hunt replied. “Our people are taught through years of specialized training to fight like utter savage animals. In combat, they are fearless. They throw themselves into a battle without any regard for their personal safety. Our training program is so intense that, when the battle starts, our people fall back on that training and practically fight like AI-driven machines. Only unlike an AI, we’re able to adapt to the changes in situations without missing a beat. It’s what makes our soldiers true warriors.”
The Tully general nodded. “Then I can see why the Altairians were eager to bring you into the Empire,” he replied softly. “They want to use your species as cannon fodder in their war.”
Hunt shook his head. “Let the Altairians think that if they want. What I can tell you, Atiku and Bjork, is don’t ever underestimate us. We’re a lot more clever than you may think. This knowledge booster shot they gave us has given us an even greater edge than I think they realize. When we’re able to take it back to the rest of the people on our planet, watch out for the innovation our scientists will come up with. I read during the battle for Rass, the Republic captured the Zodark and Orbot station. My people tell me they obtained a lot of high-level critical intelligence and technology. I haven’t seen everything just yet, but once the exploitation report arrives, I’ll know more.”
Bjork leaned forward. “You should be careful with that information, Miles. The Altairians will expect that exploitation to be shared with the council. They will then determine what should be done with it.”
Hunt lifted his head up as he countered with a devilish grin. “Are you implying there should be a problem with that information being sent here? That somehow it just happened to arrive in a case of bourbon to one of your core worlds instead?”
Bjork chuckled at the suggestion. “It would be convenient, wouldn’t it?”
Atiku let out a guttural laugh. “Only if it also arrived on my core world in a shipment of this wonderful new drink you have introduced me to as well.”
Hunt smiled inwardly. He’d made some new friends and potential allies. The counterintelligence folks were right, he thought—the Tully and the Primords were disgruntled by the way the war was being fought. We need time…time to get ourselves brought up to speed and time to organize our planet and build up a fleet of our own ships.
*******
Several days later, Pandolly knocked on the door to Hunt’s office. His aide opened the door and announced the Altairian’s arrival.
“Pandolly, it is good to see you,” Hunt said warmly as he stood up to greet him. “Thank you for making the time to meet with me. I know your time is valuable and you have much to attend to.”
“Likewise, Miles. It is good to see you as well. I heard you made quite the stir during the war council meeting the other day.”
Hunt shrugged his shoulders. “I’m a tactician and a battlegroup commander. I’m only giving my opinion based on the battles I’ve fought against the Zodark and Orbot ships.”
Pandolly nodded as he took a seat at one of the chairs with a beautiful view out into a courtyard with flowers and trees blooming.
“Miles, a while back, you and Ambassador Chapman had asked me if we could help you organize an expedition to free the human planets being held captive by the Zodarks. Is that still something you are interested in pursuing?”
Admiral Hu
nt perked up at this question. He’d been trying to push for such an intervention since their arrival nearly a year ago. He wanted to bring these human planets into the fold of the Republic and free them from the bondage of slavery.
Sitting down next to Pandolly, Hunt replied, “It is. But I get the sense there’s a catch to this potential offer.”
Pandolly smiled slightly, a very rare show of emotion by any Altairian. “You humans really are perceptive and clever, are you not?”
It was a rhetorical question, but Hunt got the hint. The Altairians knew he could be a problem for them at the war council.
“Miles, the proposal you presented the other day in the council—it is not that it is a bad idea,” Pandolly continued. “It is actually a very good idea according to our own internal analysis. Actually, it is better than a good idea. It is the exact type of campaign that could knock the Zodarks out of the war or severely cripple them. It is also the type of operation that would certainly lead to an intervention by the Collective. While some Altairians relish the opportunity to fight them, many more of us do not believe we are ready.
“Our strategic alliance with the Gallentines is in a difficult position right now. They are heavily committed in another galaxy with another campaign. That commitment means they would not be able to come to our assistance should the Collective decide to intervene. So, here is the alternative I would like to propose to you. The Republic withdraws its request for a vote on this campaign to invade and capture Tueblets—in exchange, we will recommend a vote and put our full support behind the Republic’s campaign to liberate these human planets that the Zodarks control.”
Hunt sat back in his chair as he contemplated what he’d just been told. Pandolly had just given him a unique piece of strategic intelligence. He’d revealed to him why the Altairians did not want to put a vote to the Republic’s plan—it’d likely pass, but it could backfire and destroy them in the process.
“You agree, then, that the plan I put forward has a real chance at changing the course of the war and even ending it, or at least for the Zodarks?” Hunt asked.
The Altairian canted his head slightly. “Yes. It would. I knew from the time I met you that you were a tactician. That is why we requested you be sent here to represent the Republic on the war council. It is also why we’re willing to build a warship that, in all reality, your species is not yet ready to handle. I believe you may be the military leader many of us on the council have been waiting for. But you still have much to learn. You need to learn more about the Collective that, until now, we have kept from you.”
Pandolly paused for a second before adding, “I think it is time we take a short trip and have a private meeting with our Gallentine allies. There is more they will be able to tell you about the Collective and why they are so dangerous. I know you may not understand it right now, Miles, but we have to be careful in our dealings with them. If you thought the Orbots or the Zodarks fought viciously, you have no idea what the Collective is like. They assimilate everything they touch, everything they attack.
“Tell Ambassador Chapman she is to come with you; you may also bring one individual to aid you. Pack your bags. In two days, you will accompany me, and I will show you more that you need to see and hear.”
*******
Altairius Prime
Republic Embassy
Ambassador Nina Chapman couldn’t have been happier with this posting. After all she had endured after being kidnapped by the Zodarks on New Eden, she finally felt alive again. The four-month journey from Sol to the Altairian home world had given her a lot of time to read up on not just the Altairians, but also the other species that made up the alliance they were now a part of, the Galactic Empire. Every time she said “Empire,” she either giggled or sighed internally. She liked the term Republic more than Empire. That latter term made her think more of kings and queens ruling than a democratic or republican form of government where the people at least had a voice.
When Nina had received the knowledge booster shot, it was like a whole new world of understanding had suddenly opened up. Complex subject matters became easy to understand. Remembering names, faces, places, and conversations required no effort. Her mind became like a computer, with instant recall and the ability to process everything it saw or heard. Twelve months later, that feeling of drinking from the firehose persisted—especially considering the literally tens of thousands, if not millions of years of history and knowledge there was to learn. Once Nina and her small diplomatic team had gotten themselves established and found housing, Nina had brought in lecturers to bring her staff up to speed on their new mission.
Three times a week, Ambassador Chapman facilitated a three-hour lecture from a different member of the alliance. They explained some history on their people and their planet. Those early lectures grew into a discussion of much more—like trade, industries, mineral resource management, interplanetary commerce, colonization, industrialization, evolution, and, of course, the intergalactic war that bound them all.
What Chapman found most interesting was how all these varying alien species got along. There was a sense of order to the alliance she hadn’t expected. She’d learned that the Altairians had worked with each species to determine what planets were habitable for them. Each one had a unique requirement.
By working as a collective, moons and planets were given to races based on their needs. These became known as the core worlds. Most nations were allocated between six and ten core worlds. In time, the Altairians assigned new ones. Over time, this allocation process ultimately blended these regions of space and systems together with a multicultural diversification of allied races.
After months and months of these types of lectures, Chapman broke them down into specific topics, geared toward helping her staff learn more about their specific assignments. One of her key charges from Earth was the acquisition of technology and overall information of the Empire and the races that made up the alliance. It was a daunting task but a fulfilling one.
While Ambassador Chapman didn’t work with Rear Admiral Miles Hunt often, their paths seemed to be crossing more and more as of late. Then, just last week, she’d received the oddest request. Admiral Hunt had asked for shipments of bourbon to be delivered to some of the Tully and the Primords. She found the small quantities of the orders of the brown liquid strange—only a few thousand cases. She would have expected orders of hundreds of thousands of cases.
Then, to her surprise, Pandolly had invited her on a special trip with Admiral Hunt. He wouldn’t say where, only explaining that they’d be gone roughly ten standard days. He’d told her to bring a couple of formal outfits for dinner engagements and then regular work and casual clothes.
She’d tried on a couple of occasions to pry out of the admiral where they were going, but all he’d tell her was that it was someplace special, and that he’d explain more once they left. Whatever it was, it intrigued her.
When it was time to leave, Admiral Hunt and his personal aide, who for the time being was his son, accompanied Chapman. When Pandolly arrived at the meeting location, the four of them were teleported to an Altairian ship in orbit.
Chapman had teleported a couple of times already, so the novelty had worn off, but she still smiled each time she was deconstructed and then reconstructed in a new place. It was an incredible technology, one her masters on Earth were eager to acquire.
As the human delegation of three casually strolled to their quarters, Nina finally asked, “Is it safe now to tell me where we’re going?”
The admiral blushed briefly at the question before answering, “Yes, I can tell you. I’m sorry about all the cloak-and-dagger stuff, but Pandolly requested that I not tell anyone until we were on our way. We’re on our way to meet with the Altairian patrons, the Gallentines.”
Chapman’s eyes went wide at the news. This was huge. Despite her best efforts, she had learned very little about the Gallentines—only that they were even more advanced than the Altairians and the Orbots.<
br />
“This is incredible, Miles. How did you manage to get us an audience with them?”
The admiral shrugged. “I didn’t. Pandolly offered it to me in a drug deal of sorts.”
She lifted an eyebrow at the comment. “Really? Well, now you have to tell me more.”
The ship they were on wasn’t a warship; it appeared to be a VIP transport ship. The three of them walked down a hallway, at the end of which was a decorative door that led to the enormous suite they’d be staying in. The suite had three separate rooms with a shared living room in the center. The central room also had a beautiful floor-to-ceiling window that allowed them to see the stars, nebulas, and everything else around the ship. That was, when they were in between jumping through wormholes.
The three of them moved to the seating area of the living room to have a deeper conversation. The admiral sat down in one of the armchairs and leaned forward. He explained what had happened at the war council, and how Pandolly had visited him the next day and offered to allow the humans to liberate Sumer and the other human planets if Hunt dropped his campaign proposal at Tueblets.
“Really?” asked Nina. “This is a big deal, Miles. We’ve wanted to liberate the Sumerian home world for a very long time. Would they actually let us move forward with it?”
“Yes. Not only that—the Altairians are going to provide us the support and resources we’ll need to make it happen,” Hunt explained. “With that kind of offer on the table, I agreed to withdraw the Republic’s more audacious plan in favor of this one.”
Nina nodded in approval. This was one of the reasons she enjoyed working with Admiral Hunt. He had a good eye for the future and knew when a good deal was being presented.
