Drawing Battle Lines

by Robert Culp

  Within a few minutes Athena reports that the shuttle has approached, examined and retrieved the two floating former commanders. Both APE suits were determined to contain humanoid life forms and were brought aboard the shuttle and are now bound for Prophecy.

  “Prophecy Actual this is Red Flight leader; the big cruiser is drifting. It’s been spewing escape pods like they were going out of style. All are emitting location beacons and heading for the surface. We’ve counted thirteen life signs aboard, all collocated on a small craft bay. Our best guess is they ran out of pods and are boarding a pinnace to use as a life boat.”

  “Red One, Prophecy Actual. Understood. I want a flight of two to escort that pinnace to the surface, make note of their landing site and include it in your AAR. The rest of the flight will conduct combat patrol flights around Prophecy. Your condition is Red Hold, how copy?” Condition Red means combat is imminent or in progress so they’ll be alert for any shooting, Weapons Hold means they will fire only on order or in self-defense. I’m bound to have a bunch of irritated pilots on my hands, but I can live with that if it keeps the planet from regarding us as a threat. Destroying a starship is one thing, and if you get the first shot in it’s not as hard as it could be. Destroying a planet is a much graver undertaking. That usually requires fleets of ships. But shooting at people trying to leave a ship that is dying is considered unsportsmanlike at best and unconscionable at worst by most species.

  “Actual this is one, I copy red hold, protect the nest, escort the miscreants to the surface and note where they disembark.”

  “Good copy. Prophecy Actual out.” I close that channel to open one to Chief Sergeant Okkam. “Wake up that honor guard, we’re receiving two visiting Captains.”

  “Roger that, ma’am,” Rikk answers. “I was given to believe they were coming aboard in prisoner status, not dignitary.”

  “In essence that’s the situation, but I’m treating them the way I would hope to be treated were our fortunes reversed.”

  “As you wish, the Honor Guard is en route to the small craft bay,” he answers. “In accordance with the Prophecy, Actual.” He mutes but does not close the circuit. I’m sure he’s laughing on the other end.

  “How long have you been waiting to say that, Chief Sergeant?”

  “Longer than an hour, less than a career, Captain.” I can hear the smile in his voice.

  “Captain out.” I turn to Celeste, “You have the bridge. I’m going to receive our ‘visitors,’ Athena you’re with me.”

  “Captain has left the bridge.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  If they were in fact dignitaries, I’d change into something a little more presentable than flight coveralls. But they aren’t. The Honor Guard would likewise be in dress uniforms, not marauder armor. And while I can’t see them, I’m pretty sure there are at least two troopers in wraith armor in the small craft bay as well. It’s a mess right now. Fortunately, the missile impacted just forward of the entrance to the flight deck. Had a thermonuclear warhead detonated in here, we would not have been so fortunate. Even so, I can see where the entrance is not the smooth curve it once was. Repair crews are already at work on it.

  A concession the troopers did make was trading in their assault rifles for shotguns. Should any shooting start, the pellets will make easy work of the APE suits, but the ships and armored personnel will suffer nothing other than paint scrapes. Of course, the targets will look like they’ve been through a meat grinder, but if you want an omelet…etc. The Honor Guard troopers take up position on either side of the shuttle’s hatch. They also exhibit a flawless salute as the captives exit the small ship, returning to what I believe is called “port arms" as they pass. Whether it’s out of respect or sarcasm I’ll never know. The escorting troopers present the fettered APE suited captains to me. Their helmets have already been removed.

  “Welcome aboard Prophecy. I am Captain Sonia MacTaggert. This is my Operations officer, Athena. Captain Markus, please accompany Athena to a lounge while I interview Mister Skorsi. Mister Skorsi, this way please.” The Honor Guard splits into two teams of four each; half follow Athena, the other four follow me. I’m going towards the brig. I gesture to the open door of an interview room. As Skorsi enters the holding cell my security people armed with riot batons take charge of him. A trooper takes station in each of the four corners of the room. Skorsi sits and can’t hold his mouth any longer as his manacles are fastened to a bracket set in the table. I take the seat opposite him.

  “I heard you tell your officer to take Markus to a lounge, why am I adjacent to a cell?”

  “Primarily, because at this time, the only thing I know she did wrong was to have bad judgment in following direction coming directly or indirectly from your ship.”

  “I don’t understand,” he says, his face twists in confusion.

  “Mister Skorsi,” I still won’t call him Captain, civility be damned, “not only did you attempt to extort me into captivity, you also gave orders to the two patrol craft that came into the system to fire on my ship; an act that is construed as piracy on any civilized planet. I want to know why and by whose authority. And,” I add as an afterthought, “I want to know where that fourth ship went.”

  He sighs, his shoulders fall, “Captain,” he moans, “am I a prisoner of war?”

  “That’s really up to you. Who gave the orders?”

  “I’m not a defector, I’ll answer no questions.”

  “Then you’re a prisoner of war. Lance Corporal,” I indicate one of the troopers. “See that this…individual…is processed into the brig. He is a ranking officer of the Malorian Empire, so he is to be treated with a modicum of dignity. But safety of our ship and crew is not to be compromised. I trust I am clear?”

  “Perfectly, ma’am.”

  I stand. One of the troopers behind Skorsi hauls him to his feet. I stifle a grin. “If at any time you experience a change of heart, Mr. Skorsi, inform the duty officer and she will let me know.” I leave and make my way to the lounge in which Athena is interviewing Captain Markus. Both stand as I enter, “Please, take your seats.” I join them; I can’t help but notice a plate of croissants between them. A cup of coffee soon materializes in front of me. Apparently, Athena went the “good captor” route. And it worked. Captain Markus appears as at ease as she can be, given the situation.

  “Captain,” Athena says. “The order to attack Prophecy came from Konsyoga via Captain Skorsi. It was followed by direction to execute Malorian General Order 13.”

  “Destruction of our bridge and computer storage devices should the attack fail,” Captain Markus supplies. “In the spirit of transparency, I had plans in motion to do just that if you didn’t accept my surrender.”

  “I presume you proceeded with the destruction of the computer storage devices. I know I would have. Would Skorsi have told you if the orders came from a higher authority?” I ask.

  “Not necessarily,” she answers, “In the Empire, any order given is to be done so with the understanding that it carries the weight of every officer in the chain of command from the speaker to the Emperor. So we all come to believe that any order we receive has at least the tacit approval of the Emperor. He wouldn’t see the need to say from whom the order came. As far as I know, it may have been his idea. We were called to this system by him, not dispatched by Fleet.”

  “So I can conclude this was his plot.”

  “I didn’t say that, Captain.” She leans back and crosses her ankles. “But I can’t find a flaw in your logic, either.”

  “Interesting,” I say, scooting to the edge of my seat. “Captain, I’m going to ask you to remain here for a moment. These troopers will stay here, if you need something they will provide it but please remember, they are security officials, not stewards. Athena, come with me, please.”

  We leave the lounge and head towards the bridge. There is a very small conference room—I’ve adopted it as an adjunct office—off the bridge itself, I ask Celeste to join us there. There’s a m
essage waiting for me from FlightOps on my holoCom. Apparently the pinnace from Konsyoga set down near one of the larger cities and stayed there. I acknowledge the message. A steward shows up in moments with tea. “My initial thought is to hold Skorsi in TMOD until we get back to Atlas for his trial, destroy what’s left of Konsyoga, and return Markus to her ship. She has given me to believe she is a capable officer who was following what she believed to be lawful orders. I’m unsure of the fleet she is from, but if I came out of Transit with orders to attack a ship like ours from a ship like hers, I’m not sure I wouldn’t turn tail and run screaming into the night. Which is not dissimilar to what she did. Planning that attack took courage, and that’s very hard to come by. Legally, I suppose she and her crew are prisoners of war, but I have no desire to capture them, much less house and maintain them. Nor have I a desire to build my own space navy thus I don’t want to commandeer what’s left of her ship. What are your thoughts, and ‘whatever you say, Boss,’ is unacceptable.” The steward has poured two cups of tea, one for Celeste the other for me, and dismisses herself.

  Athena speaks first. “I recommend sending Captain Markus on her way, even though she will in all likelihood be executed upon return to Malorian space. Keeping her will only fuel any rage the Empire is sure to feel at us for keeping Skorsi. My military history databases indicate she should be detained or killed, but I think that may be a bit extreme. The commander of the other ship, Captain Sheen, or a subordinate, will report this incident to the Malorian Empire. I believe that outcome to be secure.”

  “Speaking of outcomes, what do you project for Skorsi?” Celeste asks.

  “There are two factors to consider,” Athena answers. “First we consider Skorsi as an individual. His loss will either be viewed as the kidnapping of a high-ranking officer or ‘good riddance to bad rubbish’ but the other factor is Konsyoga itself. Starships are expensive, whether commanded by heroes or buffoons. The loss of one will not go unnoticed by the Malorian Empire. The loss of three will certainly paint a target on Prophecy.”

  “Interesting,” Celeste says as she sips her tea. She focuses her attention on me, “I don’t know if I’d label what Markus demonstrated as ‘courage,’ but I’m with you, had I seen what she did when she came out of Transit I would probably have done what she did when we disabled Konsyoga. Spun a quick three two hundred and exited the AO most rikki tick.” She sets her tea on the table. “Or done what bogey number four did. Keep the throttle wide open, pop off a salvo as soon as I have a target lock and boogie out to Transit space.”

  “You’ve been conversing with the weapons officer,” Athena notes.

  “His evaluation is due,” Celeste concedes with a shrug. “And if you’re interested, there are six thousand four hundred mils in a circle, half of that would be three thousand two hundred, or as the artillerists say, ‘three two hundred.’” Why is she looking like the cat that ate the canary?

  “I agree with Athena on at least one thing,” I say sipping my own tea. “This incident is certain to be common knowledge on Trelnar within the hour. Who knows how long it will take to reach Malor. I have an appointment with Minister Darius tomorrow. We’ll break orbit shortly thereafter. And I said she was brave, not wise. It’s mildly distressing to me that since they’ve been aboard, Skorsi—for all his posturing and whining—hasn’t really said anything. Markus sang like a canary when we gave her a cup of coffee.” I thumb open a channel to the brig. “If he is finished processing, please have Mr. Skorsi present in the interview room in five minutes. While that is happening, have the troopers guarding Captain Markus in lounge four escort her to the same interview room. I’m on my way to speak to both of them.”

  “Of course, ma’am.”

  I break the connection. “Athena, you’re still with me, Celeste you go back to the bridge. And wake up the Intel section. I want a briefing on that fourth ship. How did you put it? ‘Most rikki tick?’”

  In the interview room, both Malorian officers are sitting at the table. The marked difference being that Markus is still wearing her APE suit. Skorsi is wearing an unremarkable set of coveralls that don’t fit him very well. Neither is handcuffed to the table.

  “I think we all know why we’re here,” I say. “The big question on the table is what do I do with you. You have both threatened my crew and my ship. Skorsi, you additionally threatened to arrest and interrogate me. Markus, you realized you were hopelessly outgunned and circled the planet hoping to flank me and/or catch me napping. However, you were wise enough to surrender. By all laws with which I am familiar, I am within my rights to either seize or destroy both of your ships. Your cohort saw what was here and did the wise, if not honorable, thing. That is, realizing his command was ineffective and his ship uninhabitable, he abandoned the fight, leaving the two of you here by yourselves. Skorsi, your ship is effectively destroyed. The last of your personnel are on the planet’s surface. Markus, your ship is combat-ineffective but in orbit. Your cohort’s ship, Paladin if I remember, is disintegrating on its way to the planet surface. Fortunately for you, I’ve no interest in splitting up my crew to man two ships. You, Captain Markus, will be returned to your vessel. Skorsi, you will be taken to Atlas where you will stand trial for your actions against an emissary of the queen and the Academy of Ancients.”

  He looks at me, defiance all over his face. “I do not recognize the authority of either.”

  “I don’t care one way or the other.” I meet his gaze. I gesture to one of the troopers keeping my eyes locked on the Malorian officer. “Have Skorsi put in a TMOD for the ride to Atlas, put Captain Markus on a shuttle to be flown to Aurora.”

  “Aye, ma’am.”

  A trooper hauls Skorsi to his feet, as soon as he’s standing Skorsi spits in my face. My Shra Kuhn training pays off; I’m able to move my head enough to miss most of the glob. All of the troopers focus their attention on Skorsi and me. Which is precisely when Markus strikes.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  She’s still wearing her APE suit and those gloves are hard plastic, not canvas. She spears her fingertips into my side at the bottom of my rib cage. She’s coming from the same side Skorsi stands on, but my face was turned away from her. The blow hurts. But as fast as Markus is, Athena is faster. It’s a variation of a wrist throw, and Master Kreq would probably be very critical of the technique, but not the results. Markus practically cartwheels into the arms of a nearby trooper sending both of them into the wall. Once he’s on his feet the trooper wastes neither time nor gentility binding her wrists behind her. “TMOD for this one as well, ma’am?”

  I try to say “yes” but I can hardly breathe. Instead I nod to him. Athena helps me sit in one of the chairs, as the two captives are led from the room. One of the troopers removes his gauntlets and slides his helmet visor open, “I’m a combat medic ma’am; may I examine you, please?” He’s so young! Does his mama know he’s here?

  “The captain is not currently able to speak,” Athena says. “Therefore, I grant you permission on her behalf.” I shoot her a dirty look, but open my flight suit enough to allow his examination. I’m overjoyed that I took the trouble to put a sweater on under it. I can hold it up as he cuts away the flight suit exposing most of my upper torso. I get to keep some shred of dignity, even if they think I’m being prudish about it. The trooper’s hands are surprisingly gentle as he pokes and prods my rib cage.

  The door bursts open while he’s doing so. Chief Sergeant Okkam rushes in and barks, “Report!”

  “Chief Sergeant, the Captain has been attacked,” the other trooper says calmly. “Both captives are on their way to TMOD.”

  “Corporal?” Rikk is looking at the combat medic now.

  “I don’t think her ribs are broken, but I recommend she be transported to medical for further examination. She’s fit to fight, Chief Sarge. Dancing and gymnastics may have to wait though.” He grins at me as he helps lower my sweater back into position. He continues to hold the sleeve of my flight suit. “Ma’am, you’ll just
have to take this off when you get to the med bay, I can tie the sleeve out of the way for you if you’d like?” I nod my assent.

  “I’ll take her myself,” Rikk says. “Ma’am, when you’re ready?”

  I tug my sweater back in to place once the Corporal has finished tying up the coverall sleeve. “I’m ready now, Chief Sergeant,” I say in what amounts to a stage whisper. “Athena, go to the bridge, relay what has happened to the First Officer. Instruct her to inform Aurora that their Captain has been arrested. They are to vacate their vessel immediately making whatever speed they can. Give them ten minutes then, between Prophecy’s weapons and the fighter wing, destroy Aurora and Konsyoga. Have you any questions?” I have to stop many times to breathe.

  “None, ma’am.”

  “Very well, carry on then. I’ll be in Medical.”

  In the corridor Rikk has his left arm around my waist supporting me while we walk. I keep pulling on his shoulder. “Slow down, chief. Moving is a little painful right now.”

  “Sorry, Sonia.” He snaps his head in both directions. “I mean, ‘Captain.’”

  I must have given him The Look. “I think that bitch tried to rupture my lung.”

  “Fortunately, her APE suit wasn’t powered,” he says matter-of-factly. “I think she was hoping to push a rib into your lung.”

  “She couldn’t have expected to get away with it.”

  “I doubt she expected to leave the room alive.”

  “But why? She was on her way back to her ship…”

  “She’s still a Malorian officer. Perhaps she didn’t expect you to really let her go. Perhaps she was expecting you to kill her and Skorsi, sparing them the ignominy of a trial. Perhaps at some point she swore her last action would be to kill you. Who knows?”

  “At this point,” I say holding my side, “I don’t even care. I’m just pleased she didn’t succeed.”

  “Roger that.”