The Chaos Sutra

by Gregg Vann

  We promptly left the room and were escorted to separate quarters, very close to the command center. We dropped off Boe first, and just as I was stepping into my room on the opposite side of the hall, another Obas jogged up to Vilk and handed him a dataslate.

  “It has been thoroughly scrubbed and locked down,” he said. “It can only access the main library for unclassified, scientific inquiries…and general information that any off-worlder would already have access to. This dataslate has also been tamper-proofed; any attempt to modify the device will fry it out permanently.”

  They do work fast around here, I thought. These Obas were far more technologically sophisticated than any of the other races realized.

  Vilk stared at me through the doorway before handing over the device. “Did you hear everything he said?”

  “I did,” I replied. “Don’t worry; I won’t pry where I shouldn’t.”

  Under normal circumstances, I would have found a way to circumvent their safeguards, but what I was looking for wasn’t classified so it wouldn’t present an issue. As the door slid closed, I turned on the device, walking over to take a seat at the small desk situated in the corner of the room. I connected to the Obas main library and navigated to the section I needed, and then started my work.

  Three hours and a lot of diligent searching later, I finally found what I was looking for and shut the dataslate off—putting my head down on the desk and falling asleep instantly.

  Three hours after that.

  All hell broke loose.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “What happened?” I asked, running straight past the startled guards and into the crowded command center. “The intercept wasn’t supposed to happen for hours yet.”

  Vilk had awoken me abruptly before darting back out the door—saying only that I needed to get up, now, and report to the command center immediately. I’d sensed the urgency in his voice and jumped up from the desk, running out of the room. As I’d raced down the hall, I noticed that Boe’s door was open and he was already gone.

  “The Brenin have increased their speed immensely,” Peq answered, turning to face me while the others continued to stare at the massive wall screen. “Both the vanguard and the main fleet. We’ve investigated every other encounter with them to date, and there are no prior reports of them ever reaching this velocity. Either they have deliberately withheld this capability, or they are truly taxing their engines for some reason. The intercept will now occur within the next few minutes.”

  It was just as I’d feared; we’d forced the Brenin into action ahead of their own timetable. And while it was usually good policy to catch your enemy by surprise—to disrupt their schedule and throw them off balance—you had to make sure that disruption suited your own purposes. I looked up at the screen and saw the two fleets almost on top of one another—there looked to be enough Obas ships to swallow the Brenin formation whole. But I also saw the black, semicircular line surrounding the smaller enemy vanguard.

  “Is that the shield?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Peq replied. “It went active almost ten minutes ago.”

  “Where is the Speaker?” I said, his absence perceptible, even amid the clamor and heightened activity going on in the room.

  “He will be along shortly,” Peq assured me. “He is in a meeting with our intelligence chief.”

  “About?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” he answered, making no attempt to hide his disappointment at not being included.

  Master Pilot Mems’ face popped up on the view screen, overriding the tactical display—just as a side door opened to admit Boe and Speaker Lews.

  “We are ready to begin our attack,” Mems announced.

  “Proceed,” Lews said. “We have every confidence in you, Master Pilot.”

  “Thank you, sir”

  The Speaker and Boe joined me at Peq’s side and we all watched the screen with equal anticipation, eager to see what the next few minutes would bring.

  “Any interesting news from your briefing?” I asked Lews.

  He glared at Peq before responding. “Nothing you need concern yourself with, Tien.”

  But now I was concerned, because the uncomfortable glance told me two, disturbing things. The first was that I wasn’t supposed to know about the meeting, which meant it probably had something to do with me. And the second, and even more troubling deduction, was that whatever it was, it was a problem separate from the Brenin. They wouldn’t hide information from me that might hinder my aid and advice, so what else had gone wrong? And what did it have to do with me?

  As the battle began, we all turned back to the display.

  Just as in every other recorded engagement, the Brenin held fast behind their shield, sending out barrage after barrage of weapons fire through the protective barrier. Unfortunately, the similarity to earlier battles didn’t stop there. None of the Obas’ impressive firepower could penetrate in the opposite direction, and as a result of the uneven exchange, the Obas ships began disappearing at an alarming rate.

  “Speaker Lews,” I said. “We’ve had some limited success by concentrating our attacks on ships at the outside edges of the shield. It seems to be a little weaker on the periphery.”

  “Thank you, Tien.”

  He directed one of his officers to relay the information to the Obas fleet and they nimbly re-grouped in response—forming mid-sized squadrons that began attacking the Brenin ships on the outer edges. I marveled at the amount of damage the Obas could inflict, and their efforts were bearing fruit. Four of the Brenin warships broke apart, and several large hull fragments could be seen drifting outside the shield boundary. Emboldened by their success, the Obas pressed their attack even further, destroying two more Brenin vessels. I looked over and saw hope on Speaker Lew’s face.

  And then it all fell apart.

  The Brenin began directing their own considerable firepower on one of the individual attack groups—every Brenin gun trained on the small collection of ships. They were vaporized instantly. Then they targeted another group, reducing it to tiny fragments as well. The Brenin were taking advantage of the concentrated Obas formations to focus their assault, mowing through the advance fleet section by section. Onboard munitions erupted on some of the damaged Obas vessels, causing secondary explosions that destroyed almost as many friendly ships as the enemy fire had. The destruction was so quick and absolute, that I realized the Obas had installed all of that impressive weaponry at the expense of proper shielding. Their warships were nothing more than glass canons.

  The Udek had been able to manage the perimeter tactic because our ships were designed to withstand tremendous amounts of damage. But when the ever-paranoid Obas laid out their fleet designs, they focused on inflicting terrific destruction—which their ships were more than capable of doing—but without a history of internal conflicts to draw from, or the experience of waging war against other races, they’d severely underestimated the importance of defensive capabilities. There were always compromises to be made when designing warships, but the Obas had relied far too much on offensive capabilities. And while their hull designs were impressive to look at, the vessels crinkled like paper under heavy fire.

  As the battle continued to unfold, I realized that the Obas also lacked the tactical knowledge of races that spent a great deal of time in conflict with others—the Udek, for example.

  And they were paying dearly for that dearth of experience now.

  “Disperse! Disperse!” Master Pilot Mems’ voice blared from the speakers, the need to salvage his fleet suddenly more important than maintaining radio silence.

  The Obas broke away, hurtling toward safety on different trajectories, but the Brenin were still managing to pick them off, one by one. Almost half of the Obas ships were already gone, and more were disappearing by the second.

  Speaker Lews’ head hung low, his face devoid of all emotion. “Sound a retreat, Master Pilot Mems. Regroup and return to Obas; we make our stand here. Try to stay a
head of them if you can, but follow them in if you must.”

  Mems face popped up on the display. He looked harried, yet resolute. “But, Speaker, we can try again. I can—”

  “No,” Lews instructed in a resigned voice. “Follow my orders.”

  Mems started to argue, then caught himself. “Yes, sir,” he replied.

  I watched as the Obas sped away from the battle, regrouping far away and behind the enemy vanguard. The fight was clearly over. For their part, the Brenin ignored Mem’s ships, continuing on their course for Obas and ramping up speed as they moved past the remnants of the battle.

  “Why aren’t they pursuing our ships?” Lews asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “It is an uncharacteristic act for certain. One of the very few I’ve seen from the Brenin.”

  “Maybe they think the main fleet will finish them off,” Peq offered.

  “No,” I replied. “Take a look at the chart. The rest of the fleet is coming in on a different trajectory altogether. And they’ve made no course corrections to indicate they are diverting to pursue Mems. No…the Brenin are in a hurry to get to Obas. But why? It’s not like you are going anywhere.”

  “No, we’re not,” Boe said. “But the Brenin aren’t the only ones en route to the planet.” He looked at Speaker Lews, who inclined his head.

  “Go ahead and tell him,” Lews directed.

  “The Udek are on their way here as well. Our long range sensors detected a large Udek attack force; they will arrive at roughly the same time as the Brenin.”

  “Excellent news,” I said. “So that’s why the Brenin are ignoring Mems’ ships; they know the Udek will help defend the planet and want to get here first.”

  “Tien,” Lews began, “I think you actually believe that, and I would like to as well, but it’s more likely that the Udek will do nothing as we struggle against the Brenin—let us perish while we do our best to save our world—and then only attack once we’ve done what damage we can and are defeated. They don’t care about the Obas—except as far as we can help them slow down their enemy.”

  “My people may not be altruistic, Speaker Lews, but they aren’t stupid either. If it’s in their best interest to become your ally, they will. We just have to convince them that it is. How is the translation program coming along?”

  “I’ll check,” Peq said, stepping over to one of the consoles to call the research room.

  “Do you really think the Udek will help us,” Lews asked.

  “My people may not care about the Obas,” I answered honestly, “but if they see you as someone they can exploit to get what they want—namely, stopping the Brenin—they will join the battle. And the end result will be the same; they will fight for Obas.”

  His face turned grave. “Well then, let’s hope they see us ripe for exploitation. After the battle we just witnessed, I’ll take all the help we can get…whatever their motivation.” He lowered his voice so that only Boe and I would be able to hear him. “I should have listened to you, Tien. I should have kept the entire fleet here, together—prepared to defend the planet.”

  “You did what you tho—”

  “Speaker Lews!” one of the officers called out excitedly. “The approaching Udek fleet is hailing us.”

  “Well, put them through,” Lews directed, his face cautious, yet hopeful.

  A familiar, caustic voice blared through the room, and I couldn’t fight my blossoming smile. “This is Colonel Eraz of the Udek. Is that bastard, Kiro Tien there?”

  “You can relax, Speaker Lews. I’m pretty sure I can convince these Udek to help us.”

  “May I?” I asked, motioning toward the wall where Eraz’s face featured prominently on the video screen.

  “By all means,” the Speaker answered.

  I strode up to the large monitor. “Hello, Colonel Eraz. Strange meeting you here.”

  “That it is, spy. I’m sure you can imagine my surprise when I found out you were headed for Obas.”

  “No doubt. You received my entire message, then?”

  “I did. But I had one hell of a time convincing headquarters to send these ships. Forgive me for speaking in nebulous terms, but I don’t trust these Obas; our plan regarding the marshal was successful?”

  “You needn’t worry, Eraz, the Obas don’t trust you either. And yes, everything went just as we planned—there will be a reckoning within the Brenin ranks. I was able to retrieve the information we needed as well, and the Obas are working on the shield problem as we speak.”

  “Then Queltz was right about you, spy. You got the job done.”

  “It was the only thing he was right about,” I replied brusquely.

  “Yes, well…I will be joining you planet-side shortly, right after I get a closer look at this surprisingly large fleet of Obas warships we’ve discovered in orbit.” She looked down at something, frowned, and then faced the screen again. “Assuming the Brenin can’t go any faster than this ridiculous speed they’ve already managed, our estimates put us arriving an hour or so before them. That still leaves plenty of time for me to land and take over the operation.”

  I looked over at Speaker Lews and saw the anger on his face. “She is rather presumptuous, isn’t she?”

  “If you prefer, we can detour to another system,” Eraz said matter-of-factly.

  Speaker Lews shook his head sharply and readied a reply. The other Obas looked over at him intently, anticipating a defiant response that would put this off-worlder in her place. They were already uncomfortable with the Udek simply coming to Obas, but to have them actually enter the atmosphere and dive to one of their secret cities…well, that was simply too much. I decided to intervene before this got out of hand.

  “Actually, Eraz, it would be best if you remained in orbit and helped coordinate the defense from there. The Obas have limited combat experience, and it has recently become apparent that their fleet is over-gunned and under-shielded. If you and your engagement coordinators can map out a plan with those considerations in mind, it would be most helpful.”

  “I’ll remind you, Tien,” she said icily, “that you don’t command me, or this fleet.” Eraz leaned back in her chair and pressed her hands together contemplatively. “But…what you say does makes sense—send me data on the Obas fleet’s tactical capabilities and we will figure something out.”

  “Absolutely not!” Speaker Lews yelled, clearly exasperated. “Those details are closely guarded military secrets! I’ll not hand them over to some off-worlder for examination.”

  Eraz leaned in closer to the screen. “Then I’ll just wait until after the Brenin leave and examine the wreckage for what I need.”

  “How dare y—” Speaker Lews started.

  “Allow me to point out to both of you that while we bicker over how or whether we will fight together, the Brenin are drawing ever closer.” I gently grabbed Speaker Lews arm, drawing not only his attention, but that of his bodyguards as well. “Eraz is right,” I told him. “She needs that information to plan an adequate defense for your planet. Without knowing your ship’s strengths and relative weaknesses, she can’t do that.” I released his sleeve and turned to the screen. “And Eraz, I think you will be surprised by the firepower these Obas wield. They may not be able to sustain as much damage as our ships, but they can certainly dish it out with an amazing ferocity. The Udek would do well to fight at their side.”

  Eraz sat back and clasped her hands together once again, staring at my face. “I am beginning to wonder what being in that body has done to you, Tien. You are changing from an assassin into a diplomat. I want to stop the Brenin—it’s why we’ve come—but I need the information necessary to do my job.”

  I looked back over my shoulder to see Speaker Lews conferring with Peq and several other Obas officials. But despite the flailing arms and determined faces, they were practically whispering, and even with my Brenin senses I couldn’t make out what they were talking about. Whatever it was, it so incensed Peq that he threw his hands up, and then
stormed back to the console where he’d been checking on the translation project. Soon afterward, another Obas, this one in a military uniform, spun around and left the room in a huff. Speaker Lews dismissed those remaining and rejoined me at the wall display to face Eraz. He looked tired; the argument had obviously taken its toll on him.

  “We will cooperate,” he announced. “I’ve detailed my military attaché to transmit the information you require. Peq informs me that the translation program is now complete, and that our scientists are already sifting through the data—looking for a way to defeat the Brenin shielding.”

  “Excellent.” Eraz said. Then send me that information as well.”

  “I have a better idea,” I interrupted, trying to stem any further arguments. “Go ahead and send the shield specifications, Speaker Lews, but also set up a line of communication between the Obas and Udek engineers. That way they can work on the problem together. It might speed things along.”

  I knew it was a good idea when neither Eraz nor Speaker Lews seemed happy with it. But both of them did see the wisdom behind the recommendation.

  “Very well,” Lews said. “We will send everything along promptly and set up a data link.”

  “Good,” Eraz replied. “I’ll notify my personnel and be in touch soon.” Then she disappeared from the screen.

  “What have I done,” Speaker Lews asked himself softly. I doubted that anyone other than me heard him.

  “The right thing,” I said reassuringly. “The only thing you could do to save Obas.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Eraz’s fleet arrived without incident, but there were some very nervous faces in the control room when the nearly 250 Udek warships approached the Obas vessels, waiting in orbit. The Udek came to a full stop barely a hundred kilometers away from them, and then sent out a steady barrage of active scans. Lews had provided Eraz with the ship specifications as promised, but she seemed bent on doing her own assessment as well. The proximity of the Udek warships, and the sheer intensity of the examination, made it obvious that she had no intention of hiding those actions either.