by S. H. Jucha
“I believe your present conflict revolves around what is essentially a territorial dispute between Haraken and the aliens aboard the fleet,” Hector said, “and this is not an issue for me to resolve. Our leaders must take up this matter, at a later date, although I don’t envision Alex being sympathetic to federacy expansion in the direction of human worlds.”
“How do you intend to convey your intentions to the alien fleet commander that you wish these battleships to step aside while we recover our people?” Adrianna asked.
Hector could hear the trace of humor in Adrianna’s voice as she asked her question, and his estimate of her went up.
“Carefully, Captain, extremely carefully,” Hector replied, and he heard her laughter. There were elements of relief in her voice, but more important, there was an appreciation of the challenge facing both of them.
“Regarding your request, Admiral, that our ships accompany you across the wall, I must speak to Captain Azasdau and Willem,” Adrianna said. “I take it that you think our immediate return to Haraken poses risks.”
“It stands to reason, Captain, that if one fleet has crossed the wall, others might have,” Hector allowed. “If you insist on sailing for Haraken, you’ll place me in difficult circumstances. I’d be loath to let you sail unescorted, and at the same time, I’d also not like to lose the assets that I should be delivering to Alex.”
“I’ll relay your invitation to the expedition leaders, Admiral. Please communicate to me before you enter the system,” Adrianna replied.
“Of course, Captain,” Hector replied. He was about to close the comm when he heard, “And thank you, Admiral, for responding to my distress call. It’s what all of us expect from Omnians.”
Hector ended the call, without responding. His emotional algorithms elevated within his kernel’s hierarchy. In the years since his liberation from the Council Leader’s box, tucked away in the house’s underground level, many wonderful things had happened to him, which did much to ease the pain and fear of those early memories. Now, to be thought of as an Omnian, who was delivering critical services to humans, he couldn’t believe his life could get better — except for one important point. He’d like to have his partner, Trixie, with him, but she was playing an important role in Omnia governance.
Asu sent,
Willem inquired.
Asu and Willem waited quietly, while allowing time for Adrianna to process their remarks.
Willem sent.
At this moment, Hector wished he was in communication with Alex. He accepted that he was without military experience and had spent little time in the company of commanders who were battle tested. However, Hector was particularly familiar with two SADEs, whose personalities he felt perfectly suited his needs — Z and Miranda Leyton. He thought of them, as he reviewed his options.
The priorities were clear to Hector. Engagement was out of the question. His commodores and captains were untested. They had only engaged in mock trials. In addition, he was a poor substitute for a military leader. Against seasoned alien commanders, who could wield significant firepower, his fleet would be decimated, despite its overwhelming numbers.
Z and Miranda would analyze their ships’ strengths and weaknesses, Hector thought, and they would attempt to see those aspects through the fleet commander’s orbs.
Thinking in this manner, it occurred to Hector that the aliens had little to no knowledge of what his fleet might accomplish. They’d witnessed the performance of a single Trident, which they failed to damage, much less defeat.
The longer Hector dwelt on this concept, the clearer a plan emerged. When he was ready, he organized his fleet and contacted Adrianna to detail her role in the operation. Then the city-ship transited to space outside the system.
* * *
“Or-Deebaa, a ship has emerged beyond the outer ring,” Sa-Foosee said over the comm.
“Similar to the warship that resides in the system?” Or-Deebaa asked, as he rose out of his pool.
“No, it’s much larger and bears no resemblance to the warship’s design,” Sa-Foosee replied. “It might be a carrier, or it might be a transport for citizens, shuttles, and material.”
“Possibly its purpose is to colonize the planet,” Or-Deebaa suggested. “Is it moving in system?” he asked.
“Yes, at considerable velocity,” Sa-Foosee acknowledged.
“Communicate to me when it passes through the outer ring,” Or-Deebaa said, ending the comm and sliding into his pool. His tentacles waved lazily in the water, and he wore a contented expression.
In the following cycle, Or-Deebaa rose from his pool, dressed, and ate. He was ready to leave his cabin and head for the bridge, when his comm buzzed.
“I’ll be on the bridge shortly,” Or-Deebaa replied to his captain before Sa-Foosee could speak. When he gained the bridge, he asked, “Where’s the carrier ship now?”
Sa-Foosee signaled a bridge officer, who began a playback. Then the captain said, “These images are from the last shift, Or-Deebaa, but they reveal much about the new arriva
l.”
Or-Deebaa observed the huge ship turn on its edge, open numerous bays, and roll out what appeared to be projectile accelerators.
“Great in size and numerous accelerators, but I wouldn’t consider that formidable weaponry against our missiles,” Or-Deebaa commented before he suddenly clamped his mouth shut, his tentacles shuddering in surprise.
Sa-Foosee glanced at his commander. The captain had previously viewed the recordings from the long-range antenna, and Or-Deebaa was reacting as he had.
The fleet commander stared in awe as the giant ship spun on its axis like a wheel. Rather than weave its way through the rock field, it fired energy beams from the long rods he mistook to be projectile accelerators. The entire imagery was one of incredible energy cutting a swath through the rubble.
When Sa-Foosee saw his commander turn to examine his fleet’s disposition, he said, “There’s much more to observe, Or-Deebaa.” Then he signaled the officer again.
“After the carrier cleared the outer ring, it decelerated and came to rest. Then this happened,” Sa-Foosee said, pointing to the screen.
The ship had rotated again to its original position. Many more bays doors opened, and small, sleek ships flooded out to occupy the space around the mother ship.
“It’s an armed carrier,” Or-Deebaa concluded, “but those fighters are too small and too few in number to cause our fleet serious harm.”
Sa-Foosee cued the next imagery. “These arrived outside the periphery,” he said.
“They’re the same design as the warship we engaged,” Or-Deebaa noted. “Only this one triplet?” he asked.
“I wish that were so,” Sa-Foosee replied, his tentacles drooping. “You’re observing the arrival of the eleventh set of warships. They continue to appear at paced intervals. They’re populating approximately an eighth of the arc around the periphery.”
“They’re not arriving in formation like a fleet?” Or-Deebaa asked rhetorically. For the first time since he’d arrived on the bridge, he was intrigued.
The small tentacles near Sa-Foosee’s mouth entwined, indicating his confusion.
“It’s a message, Sa-Foosee,” Or-Deebaa explained. “What’s important now is to understand it.”
“Or-Deebaa climbed into the plush commander’s bridge chair to observe and think. While he did, he ordered a display of ship positions in the system. Immediately, he noticed that the warship they’d fought had moved.
“After all this time, it’s moved,” Or-Deebaa said aloud, pointing to the single alien ship that had taken up station about two-fifths of the way around the planet from their fleet. “What do you make of that, Sa-Foosee?” he asked.
“I’m not certain,” Sa-Foosee replied. “Do you suppose it’s a part of the message that you seek?”
“Undoubtedly,” Or-Deebaa replied confidently. “There is a clever commander in that alien fleet.”
An officer quietly delivered news to Sa-Foosee, who said, “Or-Deebaa, the arrival of the triplet of warships appears to have ceased. The count is twenty-one.”
Or-Deebaa stared at the display, attempting to understand what the alien commander was trying to say. The triplets had shot through the outer ring at velocities that they’d seen the single warship achieve. Then they arranged themselves in an arc, with the gigantic carrier in the middle. Their entire organization bore no resemblance to a battle formation. He felt the key to understanding the alien’s message was to comprehend the purpose of the warships positioning and that of the single ship.
“Or-Deebaa, do you recall our conversation, in which you proposed the two reasons why you thought the alien warship refused to desert the system?” the captain asked.
“I do,” the commander replied.
“One reason that you offered was that the warship had called for assistance to support the claim on this world,” the captain continued. “Support has arrived, but it’s not attacking.”
“Sa-Foosee, you’re stating the obvious and disturbing my thinking,” the commander riposted.
“Your pardon, Or-Deebaa,” the captain apologized. “I mention the first reason that you gave because events don’t seem to support it.”
Even though the captain received his commander’s focused glare, he pushed on. “It’s your second reason that seems valid.”
“Explain,” the commander ordered, willing to listen a bit longer.
“You thought the warship remained in system and near us because the first ship might have lost some of its members on the planet,” the captain explained. “I thought that because we hadn’t seen them that it wasn’t a possibility, but you thought they could be under the surface.”
The captain could see he had the commander’s attention, and the tentacles that had twisted in consternation slowly untwined.
“Continue,” Or-Deebaa requested in a more moderate voice.
“The alien fleet arrived on the system’s ecliptic to the closest point to the planet below,” the captain said. “Then he ordered the navigator to bisect the alien fleet’s arc on the ecliptic and extend it as if it was the radius of a circle.”
The commander stared in surprise at the display.
“You’re correct, Sa-Foosee,” the commander said. “The alien fleet doesn’t center on us. It’s focused on the planet.”
“And notice, Or-Deebaa, how the line intersects the single warship before it strikes the planet,” the captain said.
“Remarkable navigation,” the commander allowed. “However, all this could be interpreted to mean the aliens want the planet below, and they’re offering us an opportunity to retreat peacefully.”
“That’s one interpretation,” Sa-Foosee replied. He didn’t think it was the correct explanation, and he wondered how they could test it.
“What did you say?” the commander asked.
“I didn’t think I spoke, Or-Deebaa, but I was trying to decide what maneuver would allow us to comprehend the alien’s message,” the captain explained.
“That’s it,” the commander said excitedly, jumping out of his chair. “Message to the fleet,” he ordered. “We’ll be executing a maneuver at one-third acceleration. Our new position will be toward the orbit of the next planet inward. Stand by for action orders.”
“What if we’re wrong and it’s an invitation to leave the system to them?” the captain asked.
“Then we’ll precipitate a fight,” the commander replied calmly. “I don’t think I’m wrong, but in either case, we don’t want a battle near that precious planet. Better our armament is thrown at each other where it can do little harm to this system’s primary asset.”
The commander gave his fleet captains sufficient time to ready their ships to sail, but under the circumstances, he assumed they were already at battle stations. The alien fleet was nothing if not intimidating. Or-Deebaa issued the formation orders and the fleet’s action. The two damaged battleships were unable to join the fleet and were left to defend themselves.
-8-
Surfaced
“That’s the extent of our buoyancy?” Smitty asked Orly in surprise. The view from the external sensors indicated that barely a quarter of the ship had broached the surface, and one-meter waves were splashing over much of that. “The longer we sit here, the more likely we’re going to resemble a carcass and get swallowed again,” he warned.
The traveler sat on the surface for a few hours collecting telemetry to locate the Sojourn and the Guardian. It was a precaution on Orly’s part that he couldn’t explain.
“Our lives might have just gotten a little more complicated,” Orly said, his speech drawing the words out.
“What?” Smitty asked, concerned for his friend.
“There is good news,” Orly replied. “One of our fleets has arrived. The bad news is that they’re facing off against an alien battleship fleet, and those ships are huge.”
“The things that happen when you stop to take a nap underwater,” Smitty marveled.
Orly regarded his friend. He chuckled
at the odd statement, and then Smitty did too.
In the main cabin, the team members heard loud laughter coming from the pilot’s cabin.
When Smitty gained control, he asked, “Do you think they’re fighting over this planet or us?”
“Hard to say,” Orly replied. “I know Asu and Willem are intent on recovering us, and our fleet is probably here to support them, but don’t ask me how they got here in time. And that probably leaves the aliens wanting this water world.”
“Are you going to contact our ships or the fleet?” Smitty asked.
“Negative to both,” Orly replied firmly. “In fact, I shut down the comm system and our traveler’s ID broadcast before we reached the surface. I think it turned out to be a good thing. We don’t want to initiate a recovery action on our fleet’s part that could start a fight.”
Smitty studied Orly’s face. “That was an odd decision. What made you do it … not that, in hindsight, it wasn’t a smart move?” he asked.
“Don’t know,” Orly replied, shrugging his shoulders.
“Shades of Alex,” Smitty whispered.
“Oh, I hope not,” Orly returned.
“Well, the Sojourn isn’t in system, and the Guardian won’t have room for us in its bays,” Smitty said, studying the telemetry. “It looks like we solve our problem by ourselves, lift, and make for the fleet. Time to try some of your ideas to dump this water.”
“The men climbed out of their seats and waded into the main cabin. Orly explained the situation to the team, and there was general agreement that he’d made the right call not to turn on the ship’s comm system.
“Tell them about your ideas to get rid of the water,” Smitty encouraged Orly.
“Well, my first idea is a bust,” Orly said, which irritated Smitty, who was hoping to stir up some enthusiasm and get creative suggestions flowing. However, he schooled his face and waited.
“What was it, Orly?” a tech asked.
“I’d thought to pump up the ship’s internal air pressure and open the ramp’s lower collection ports, but it won’t work. We’re too low in the water, and the pressure outside the ports is greater than the pressure I can create inside,” Orly explained.
