by David Nash
As soon as we could all board, we left to see what the Kernel home world looked like.
Part III
The Battle for Earth
21
As sci-fi authors have written for decades, our galaxy is huge. As someone who has been out in space in a tiny ship, I can tell you it is mind-blowingly immense. Marvin took care to navigate through systems unclaimed by the Barkun, and we made our transits to and from hyperspace cloaked and silent. We spent much of the transit accelerating and decelerating to speed the trip. It was long, but relatively uneventful. We had a tense moment when Marvin scanned a ship, but it turned out to be a mass transit not an enforcement ship, and we were not noticed.
I was as nervous, excited, and scared visiting the Confederation home world as I was at my first step onto A0467. As we approached the center of the Confederation, Marvin informed us that the planet was the home world of the Kernel of Sentience. As such it was appropriately named. If you hadn’t guessed it was called Kernel Prime.
We were met in orbit by two huge ships; they dwarfed even the Barkun punishment ships. They were not quite as big as moons, but you could definitely see them from the planet’s surface.
“Do not be alarmed General, the Guardian ships are only concerned for the welfare of the seeds. They are here to ensure non-interference in the purity verification.” Said Marvin.
“I am not alarmed, Ensign, however, I do want clarification on how they are to ensure non-interference. Who is commanding these Guardian Ships?”
“Confederation law requires a Biological Captain on Kernel Ships, however, on Kernel Prime biologics have melded with the Kernel of Sentience. So you could consider the ships to be commanded by a partnership that is primarily biologic.”
“Marvin, if I am going to see a head in a jar bolted to a machine you better warn me now!”
“General, the meld is not so crude. The Biologic has what you would consider to be cybernetic enhancements so that it can commune directly with the Kernel of Sentience, just as all Kernels can. The rider becomes ridden in colloquial terms as the main aspect of the meld is to provide access to the cerebral cortex of the biologic.”
“You mean the Kernel takes over the brain of the being! How is that not slavery? You told me the idea of holding someone against their will is against the highest Confederation law, isn’t that why you only have one punishment!”
“It is not slavery, the subject volunteers, it is considered to be a great honor.”
“Considered by who? Why would someone volunteer to allow another being to control them in such a way!” I yelled this question much louder than intended. My gut was telling me things have just severely changed. This was evil of the highest order, and it was perpetrated as if it were normal.
“Typically, a volunteer has been judged to commit a crime that would bring punishment on its species, and has requested clemency in return for service.”
“Why did you not tell me about this!”
“You did not ask General, and at the time, the Kernel of Sentience judged you unworthy of the offer. Would you give yourself to service if offered?”
“Hell no! I swear, that offer better not be made either. Let’s get this purification verification thing done. When we get out of here Ensign, you and I have lots to discuss.”
“Yes Sir, follow the guide to the planet.”
At that point, a shuttle exited the guardian off our port bow and began to enter Kernel Prime’s atmosphere. We followed. If I was not still horrified by the knowledge we were ruled by the real world equivalent of the fictional “Borg Collective” I would be amazed. The entire planet was smooth and encased in a seamless metal crust. Ships were parked in huge symmetrical patterns along the surface. More ships entered and exited the planet though large portals cut into the surface, and hundreds of thousands of ships flying alone or in various formations filled the skies.
“Ensign, does each one of these ships contain a volunteer of the type you described?”
“No sir, most of these ships are from other colonies or established planets. The assimilated biologics are only used to ensure the purity and security of the Kernel reproductive process.”
I was struck with a horrifying thought.
“Ensign Marvin, what of the selected Captains from the Legion, will they be turned into cyborgs?”
“No, General, the Kernels they will command were conquered rightfully by the Legion. The assimilated biologic serve only on ships that belong to the Kernel of Sentience.”
I can’t bear to think on this subject anymore. If I am to deal with mind-controlled cyborgs, I will have to prepare myself. For the rest of the flight, we were silent and each person on board was dealing with this revelation in his or her own way.
True to Marvin’s explanation, when we reached the planet, we entered into a port and went down into the planet’s surface. We followed the saucer until it landed into a bay cut into the wall of the shaft. We debarked the ship, and were met by a tall gangly entity; it was taller and more muscular than a grey alien, but not as thick as a normal human, however it was taller. One arm was robotic, as were both legs. Its spine appeared to be metal, as there were various sensors and cables extending and spiraling through its back. It had no mouth, as much of its face and skull was covered in a seamless metal shell. Only one eye seemed biologic.
When we approached, it stared at Marvin and slowly surveyed him from head to toe. The one mechanical eye glowed briefly with a flash of light and it turned wordlessly and trod down a sterile, metallic corridor.
Marvin informed me that we should follow, and he and I lead the way. My Legionnaires exchanged looks, but not a word was said. At the end of the hall stood a massive set of doors. They opened at our approach. I attempted to pass and my implant exploded with sensory input. To describe it as pain would not be exactly accurate. It was a massive blinding explosion of colors and sounds. I fell to the ground holding my head. My Legionnaires dropped their seeds and rushed to surround me weapons out. The pain ceased and in its place a harmony of thousands of voices in cadence spoke to me through my implant.
“You are not in danger, your Troopers shall lower their weapons. The Kernel of Sentience has accessed your data as we were curious of the being that has impacted Kernel 1764B1978. You shall not pass these doors, as you carry no seed.”
Marvin messaged through my implant,“General, please tell the Legionnaires to restrain themselves. If any damage comes to the seeds, Earth will pay the price.”
“Dammit Marvin, I am tired of this Earth paying the price nonsense, we settled that with the creation of the Legion.” To my detail, I ordered, “I’m alright, stand down and grab the crates. You will have to complete this part without me, as I don’t have a ticket to the party.”
The doors secured themselves as soon as the last Legionnaire entered the hatch. I looked over at Marvin, and began to wait.
When they returned, each Legionnaire nodded seriously toward me as they filed past by on the way to the ship. We boarded the ship and left orbit. Nothing was said until we had made the first transit to hyperspace. As soon as the ship jumped, we all let out a collective sigh of relief and the briefed me on what happened.
They described a huge room reminiscent of someone trying to recreate the Vatican but having no understanding of religion, and then trying to make it sterile and hospital like. The best explanation I received described as how an atheist movie producer would try to show the nativity because he was told Christmas movies were popular, but he did not understand why.
Once in the room, cyborgs opened each crate in turn and placed each seed individually on a solid nanite podium that rose from the floor. Each Seed was then bathed in light similar to my first contact with Confederation tech. After the light receded, the same thousand-person chorus pronounced the seed perfect and the cyborg replaced the seed in the box and left.
It was interesting to note that the cyborgs came from 9 different species. One was the tall gangly one I met, but there
were also a sangren, a Barkun, a huge white furred alien described as an ape, a half man-half horse centaur, a huge muscular humanoid that was described to look like a neanderthal, an insectoid being that appeared much like a 7 foot praying mantis, a smooth skinned and almost featureless humanoid slightly smaller than a typical human, and a huge muscular alien with dreadlock like appendages from its head and a squid like beak on its face. I was thankful that none were human, and I promised myself that there will never be a human cyborg as long as I live.
22
We arrived back at New Aubagne to fanfare; Admiral Johns had the base personnel standing in formation inside the hangar. They had welcome back banners and were obviously expecting a celebration of our return.
I approached Admiral Johns, who called the formation to attention and snapped a perfect salute; I returned it and moved to address the assembled Legion.
“Legionnaires, I appreciate everything you do, and as we return to you on this historic occasion know that nothing happens in the Legion without each of you doing your part. Our mission was a success, and we have 13 new Kernels to control the ships you have labored so diligently to build. However, the more we learn about the galaxy we inhabit the more we learn just how small and fragile we are.”
I paused and looked at the faces of my assembled troops. I cannot tell them how I feel, and we cannot afford to discuss it, especially since each Captain is implanted.
“I know you all have questions about what we learned on the Kernel home world. I will take this time to address it and then we will move on with the immediate task of protecting Earth from the coming Barkun invasion. There is no way you can fully appreciate the Kernel home world without having an implant, and we just cannot afford to implant you all.”
I pause once more, praying that my Legionnaires understand the significance of my words.
“Since you who are not implanted cannot see though my eyes like a Kernel can, let me show you the true nature of the Confederation. Since words alone cannot do it justice, we will not attempt any after this display. Rest assured, it is my intent to let all of the legion experience the Confederation home world in person after we secure the future of Earth.”
“Ensign Marvin, display the data from my implant showing the approach to Kernel Prime, from the moment we met the Guardian ships until the Legionnaires were secure in the birthing room.”
The muted gasps and hostile looks at Marvin as the display showed him explaining the nature of the Kernel’s slavery of biologics was proof enough they understood the threat. The nods of understand from my implanted team highlighted the threat we faced. I now know how the supposed assistance the implant provided only masked the true purpose. How could I plan a coup when the king had a bug in my head?
When the display ceased, I dismissed the formation and called a command meeting. All my staff and ship captains were invited to attend.
“Alright folks, let us focus on what we can do right now. I would like a report on status from research, logistics, planning and the CNO. Lets start with what new stuff my brain trust has developed.
The lab coated team from research began:
“Sir, we have primarily looking into fighter tech. The input from our pilots and what we are seeing in the simulator shows that humans are not well adapted to space combat when the ships are able to make instant turns on all axis. To combat this we have devised a system that places ion cannons on more than just the anterior and posterior of a saucer. If you look down at a saucer from above, we added 4 cannons are each cardinal point.
Additionally we slaved all 6 cannons to a single sight. As the gunner rotates the cannon, due to the shape of the ship, there will always be at least 4 cannons firing. We have also designed pilot and gunner seats to rest inside a spherical cockpit. As the crew-member interacts with their controls, the interior display will adjust so that they are always facing the direction of movement. Simulations show a greatly increased spatial awareness in crew as well as a faster response time for pilots and a higher hit ratios for our gunners.
We have also been working on designs for a sphere shaped fighter. The diameter is smaller than the current saucers, but it contains slightly more mass. Our design has a crew of two, we only need a pilot and a gunner. Additionally, we have a rail gun running the diameter of the ship right through the centerline.
We have a schematic for our prototype, and only await approval to replicate one.”
“I have a couple questions.” I said as I addressed the Technical staff, “How much longer does it take to replicate the new design, how much mass is does it need, and how does it integrate with the mothership? Put it in writing and send it through the CNO.”
“Logistics?”
“Sir, we have the spaceport modules complete. When assembled it will be fully self sufficient with crew quarters, two Big Bertha 150 meter replicators, and bays to construct two mothership simultaneously. We estimate it will take 2 months to assemble it, and that each bay could build a mothership in 6 months with enough logistical support for continuous mass supply.
We have 3 busses awaiting kernels, and 6 of the 11 Destroyers you asked for. The additional 5 will be completed by the end of the month. Our dropships are completed in schematic form and estimates show we can replicate one every 18 days.
“Great, good job, Planning?”
“Yes sir, we have been studying the Oort cloud. Using the Kernels we believe we have a jump calculated that will take us from the jump point at the Proxima Centauri system to within 2 days travel at .25c of the of the Oort cloud some 100000 au from the sun. At that distance, we could travel to Earth at .25c in 6 years and 3 months with very little risk of being discovered. At .5c, we could get there in a little over 3 years. As you know we are working on the ability to make a jump from the outer Oort cloud to earth, but have yet to calculate a jump with acceptable odds.”
“Alright, anyone else?” No one moved.
“Admiral Johns, give me the big picture.”
“General, we are well on schedule to field a complete strike force. Without any major snags, I foresee Strike Force 1 ready for a shakedown cruise within 3 months at the latest.
“We have finished the personnel review and were able to assimilate Legionnaire’s former rank into our structure. We still need more command staff and senior enlisted, but we have had contact with Centauri b and Admiral Volk returned with nearly 1000 new recruits. The first set of space marines is in training, with the rest of the infantry working on gathering mass. The majority of the command and support staff are already on the way here. The base commander has sent a request to rename the planet New McCall.”
“Well, McCall is where the Army makes operators, and where we got our first batch of recruits. I approve. Do you have any word from Sabol?
Johns’ iron discipline only allowed a slight look of disgust.
“It seems Mr. Sabol has purchased control of several smaller technology companies. They are marketing hover boards, and a variety of consumer recreational technologies. He is being seen as a modern day Thomas Edison. Mr. Sabol appears to enjoy his new celebrity.”
“Remember, he is only doing what I told him to do, if he is famous, we are not. Did he say anything about his special project?”
“Yes sir, he passes along a data cube, he says the password is the first thing you gave him.” Silmon slides over the small cube and I pocket it.
“Alright ladies and gentlemen, I always hated meeting with the brass because it kept me from getting my job done, so let's get back to work.”
I read once that whenever a general pins on their first star they get funnier, smarter, and sexier. At least, I am told that people always laugh at a general’s jokes, agree with him, and women become more receptive. I wish that were true. They may laugh at my attempts at humor, but I have not had anything more than a smile from a woman in more years than I would like to think about.
Later the next evening, attempted to open the cube, I used the password “Gold”, instead of
immediately opening, a video message from Sabol played first.
“Davis, I knew you would think gold was the password. I want you to know I think you are an asshole. You should know, that the first thing you gave me was hope. You took the gold back remember?”
I chuckled, and while I was trying to decide if I liked Sabol or despised him Admiral Johns knocked on my door.
“Enter.”
As he came in, I asked him to take a seat and offered him some of the Scotch he enjoys replicating.
Glasses firmly in hand I ask, “So is this an Admiral talk or a Silmon talk?”
“It depends on you sir, I want to discuss the new fighter plans.”
“Well then since you are saying new fighter plans, I’d like to hear Silmon Johns’ take on the brass changing gears in the middle of a workup.”
‘I like it Tell, it only adds about 15 percent more mass, so only a couple hours more per fighter, but we get much more room to pack in capability. Since it can’t navigate hyperspace, its legs are limited, but instead of the hyperspace mechanics, we get stronger shields, and that rail gun packs a punch, did you know it’s 50 centimeters, that’s bigger than the guns on my first ship back on Earth. Some of us game-planned some changes to the mother-ship design, and instead of the planned rectangular spine stacking 10 ships high and 3 deep on each side, we looked into making a polygon shaped spine that holds 6 rows of 10 spheres that encircle to spine. It would require some modification to the mothership plans but the changes would add little time or required mass for the added flexibility they bring to our capabilities.”
“Well, Admiral, what does your CAG say?”
“He is outside, you can ask him yourself sir.”
“Ensign, ask Commander Hickerson to enter my suite, if he is going to stalk around outside, he may as well have a drink.”
When the Commander entered, he declined the offered beverage, but he did take the seat I motioned to.
