Alien Backlash

by Maxine Millar

As Kedlijercylix anticipated, the open Declaration of War was picked up by all the ships in the area and broadcast by them to their respective planets, and to all the Niseyen worlds. He thought this would be inconsequential — but he was not quite correct. The Okme took it personally. The Niseyen took it very personally, especially because of Sarah.

  Dinkisid, the jare silver-headed Niseyen Captain who had appeared to Sarah to be in charge of the clandestine military, received the broadcast grimly but not surprised. He looked at the scan which was tracking the resupply ships and the seven Niseyen military ships in the area. “They are spaced out with only two of them overlapping their shields. Idiots. They have just declared war and they are ambling along like old men.” Unsaid was that their shields were prodigious and they had an almost endless supply of weapons.

  “What do you think our chances are?” asked the gunner softly.

  The Tactician answered, “Seven ships is not enough against that fire power and those shields. We might be able to get one of them, maybe two. At least damage them. If we attack before they link shields. If we are lucky. If we are very careful and very fast.” He sighed. “We will have to ram. There is no other way to get them. I doubt our weapons will make a dent, but our ships will if we ram and simultaneously self destruct.”

  “Start the attack,” said Dinkisid. “We have to try or Torroxell is finished.”

  On a secure channel, the Tactician issued his orders. The Niseyen ships slightly changed their courses, made no sudden moves nor alterations in speed, but started to close in on where the resupply ships would be at a particular point in the future. They used every bit of cover they could, every ship that could hide them — and there were many. A large number of ships just happened to be in the vicinity and they belonged to a large number of Races.

  Two days passed. “Is it my overactive imagination or are those Terran ships mimicking our manoeuvres?” asked the Tactician.

  The computer specialist ran the scanner backward. There was silence for several minutes as he checked. “Nine ships are mirroring our moves. All have Terran ID.”

  “On our own,” said Dinkisid, “this will be a suicide mission. If they intend to help us, the outcome could be different. That President did not realize what she was asking of us.” He paused. “On second thoughts, Dai did. She did. Contact Torroxell. We need to talk with them.”

  Dacklorat noticed the screen light up. The Communication Officer announced, “We need to communicate with the Terran ships.”

  “About time,” said Dacklorat, and held up a prepared piece of paper with an encryption code and an encryption key on it. The screen blanked a minute later.

  Dinkisid winced to see the Niseyen military code. Top secret. Not to be divulged. If he lived to report any of this to his superiors, there would have to be a lot of editing done. This had better be a suicide mission, he thought, otherwise I will be court-martialled for this!

  On board one of the spaceships Dai had sent up from Torroxell, Ludmilla, acting as the Communications Officer, was startled when her screen suddenly lit up showing the bridge of what she recognized as the bridge of a Niseyen military ship. Probably one of the ones on her screen, she thought. She smiled warmly. “We wondered how long it would take. We were told to follow your orders,” she added, a little more formally.

  “What is your experience?” asked Dinkisid, trying to conceal his astonishment. There were more women than men on the bridge, and this woman was jare, elderly and had long silver hair!

  “In space combat or in these ships?”

  “Both.”

  “No experience in space combat and about three weeks flying these ships,” Ludmilla answered. In response to his expression, she added, “We haven’t crashed any yet.”

  There were some splutters behind her: most of the Terrans were laughing or trying not to. There were some Niseyen among them.

  Dinkisid heard some suspicious noises behind him and turned to see many of his crew trying not to laugh. The rest were either laughing or looking disapproving.

  Ludmilla took pity on him. “We have had weeks of training on simulators and there were a lot of them! Many of us were aircraft crew. We have learnt the Keulfyd tactics and how to fight them. They really were careless leaving those in the simulators. Dacklorat found them. We have brought the simulators with us. Dai said you could send some Niseyen tactical programs to this ship and I can convert them and send them on. Dai said to tell you we are committed. We will get those resupply ships or we will die trying. We know the stakes.”

  Dinkisid was horrified as he realized the women he could see would soon be involved in fighting but he pulled his attention back as Ludmilla said,

  “ Dai did mention sending us those programs could be regarded as breaking a few regulations, or treasonous. He said to tell you that Sarah has merged the Races, Niseyen and Terran. Terra has done the same. And helping us gives you automatic citizenship on Torroxell. Does that make it easier?”

  Oh great, he thought, somewhere to park my treasonous ass if I survive this. And then he registered what else she had said. Sarah had merged the Races? Did she realize the implications of that? She must have — Dai would have told her. Did he tell her to do it? No, he thought, he doubted anyone could tell Sarah to do anything. But it had enormous military implications. Dai knew that, so Sarah would know it too. Had she done this to help him to decide?

  On this planet, they were now the same Race. He could help his own people! He was allowed to! He could supply military equipment. He could fight with them. More to the point, he could lead this fight as a legal Military Commander. He could consider Sarah’s “suggestions” which he had done anyway, but it was now legal. This was beyond a trade alliance and even a military alliance, which was just as well because the Niseyen had neither with the Terrans. They hadn’t even acknowledged them! He thought through the implications. This was no longer treason! He could even justify breaking regulations. He processed this further. The Terrans were either nuts or very smart. Did they have any idea how much they had just given up? This threw Torroxell and Terra wide open to the Niseyen — unrestricted access for any Niseyen who wanted to go there. Full citizen rights on Terra, too. The Niseyen could marry Terrans and live on two planets with full rights for both of them. She was risking everything; the Niseyen were risking nothing. Not as a Race. Individuals could now do what they wanted. Maybe that was what she was after. This was very one-sided, though. He turned to his Communication Officer: “Send her the programs.”

  “Thank you,” said Ludmilla, “And here is a nice present for you.”

  In astonishment Dinkisid read the dispatch from Dai as the encryption translated. It was the official Race Merger. Dai was now going to send it to all Niseyen worlds and to every Niseyen ship in space or on the ground as what was called an “open message” albeit well-coded. The problem was that both he and Dai knew they were infiltrated by the Keulfyd. He read on. Ah, smart boy. Dai had sent it on “varied delay.” It was going first to those they thought they could trust, then slowly on to those they were wary of. It would go last to Military Command and the governments and the media of the three Niseyen planets, all of whom were definitely compromised. It wouldn’t reach them until this war was over, one way or the other. Dai was pulling no punches. It would be clear to all Niseyen what he thought, that too many ignored unpalatable truths and did not question when they did not want to know the answer. This would be a huge wake-up call, as would this war.

  For this, Dai would be arrested if they could catch him. This was insubordination on a level Dinkisid had never seen before. Clearly, Dai did not intend to return to Niseyen planets. He was committed. Sarah was committed. Torroxell was committed. Those closing in on the resupply ships were committed.

  As Dinkisid read on, he found a postscript for him alone. Dai told him that the shield was not what it appeared, and itemized its capacity. Not what the Keulfyd thought they were facing, much greater in both defense and offense: “The Loridsyl suggest you
delay until the resupply ships are at a distance from the shield they will think still safe. The shield will attack the front of what we assume will by then be a defensive wedge. It can attack at the following co-ordinates, and the Terrans and the Niseyen are to attack the rear.”

  When Dinkisid read the last paragraph his mouth dropped open in shock, then he smiled slowly. He told his men, “This changes everything. This is no longer a suicide mission. We now have two Allies, some previously unknown technology, about four or so times the weapons, and seven extra crew to pick up. Clear out seven cabins please.” Abruptly he left the bridge, motioning for some of his officers to follow him. The crew muttered among themselves as to when he would get around to telling them what the plan was, who the crew were, who the Allies were, where the weapons were coming from and a few other pertinent details.

  Dinkisid met with his officers a few minutes later. The Tactician had an ear-to-ear grin as he read Dai’s message. “We have the Objective: the total destruction of all five resupply ships. We have the Means: sixteen ships, one seriously equipped shield, and extra crew coming in key positions with unique technology.” He held up Dai’s message. “We have the Location,” he said, pointing to the co-ordinates the Loridsyl suggested they attack where the shield would be in range. “We have the Method, these three tactical plans sent to the Terrans, ranked as A, B, and C, which Dai says had learnt in the simulators. And we have the Exit strategy.” He indicated a different route out for all the ships depending on which plan they were using.

  Dinkisid nodded as he looked it over. “Think it through. Transmit when ready. Diversion?”

  “No, a waste of time,” said the Tactician. “They’ll already know we intend to attack them and our configuration as we accelerate will tell them roughly what strategy we will use. We are known for suicide missions, so that is what they will think this is. They will not consider it either a real threat or out of character. From their viewpoint, a futile gesture to make a point. The diversion, if you like, will be if we get the shield to fire first. But we should push the wedge towards the shield and then have it open fire where the Loridsyl suggest. Besides, communicating with the Loridsyl will be tricky and probably compromised. I vote we stick to this plan if we can.”

  “Yes, I agree. Make sure those Terrans get their angle of fire right! I dislike friendly fire, especially if it’s coming at me! Dai says they are good, at least in the simulators. And we have seven more crew coming. They will take over weapons and communication.”

  “Who?” asked one of the officers.

  Dinkisid told them and smiled at the expressions on their faces.

  “Is this possible? Can they do this?” asked the Tactician.

  “Dai says they can. We have to trust him. We will soon know. Put it this way, if this is true, it is possible for us to win. Just. They’ll be here in a few hours. We delay our attack until they get here. And we are now on a communication blackout until they arrive. Their presence is our secret weapon. They are taking an incredible risk — I don’t need to tell you what would happen if the Keulfyd find out what they can do.”

  Dinkisid thoroughly enjoyed the expressions of his other ships’ Captains when he told them, “You are going to get seven more crew each. They will explain. I can’t tell you any more, except you will get a shock when you see them. We are now on a communications blackout.”

  Sarah opened that night’s newscast with, “Enjoy the fireworks display. It’s costing you enough! Now we start the plan of which I spoke before. You need to follow orders, continue to train, and continue to prepare as discussed.”

  “But the money’s gone. Why has this world got no money?” yelled one of the media.

  “It went on defense. Look up there. The Loridsyl say they have so far destroyed three gunships and thousands of satellites. Probably hunter/killer and surveillance satellites. This shield is equipped with a serious offensive capability as well as defensive. It had to be! It may surprise you to know that each bomb cost money,” she added sarcastically. “Otherwise the Keulfyd could simply have stayed up there and bombarded the shield until they wore it down and with a constant stream of resupply ships ensuring they would succeed — and sooner rather than later.”

  “But you can’t defeat the Keulfyd!”

  “Of course we can,” snapped Sarah. “We already have. This time we are much better prepared.”

  That night, the population went to bed to the sound and sight of the bombardment and woke to the same.

  The next morning Kasjeindid’s message was announced on the news, “The worst inconvenience, as anticipated, is that jammer satellites have been launched outside the range of the shield. Torroxell is cut off from most communication except for ours. We still have a way to communicate through the shield. But outside the range of those satellites, ships of the Loridsyl are reporting to the universe that Torroxell is fighting and holding the Keulfyd off. Other ships, mostly media ships, are reporting the same.”

  Switching off, its friend the Controller enthused to Kasjeindid, “What you did not mention was the maximum publicity being achieved. A shield test, on a Marine planet, the defenders coming from Marine, Amphibian and Terrestrial origins. The aggressors, the Keulfyd. If anyone in this galaxy does not know this or is not interested, I will be astonished. It has all the ingredients for the best publicity in millennia and we are milking it for all it we are worth. It’s also the most exciting news in some considerable time. This is such fun! The broadcasts are being paid for by the news services they are being sent to. The cash registers of our people are ringing loudly. Our bank accounts are filling up at a satisfying speed and we are now earning danger money.”

  Kasjeindid wondered at its friend’s financial priority as it rattled on, “This was the third option of the advertising manager. The riskiest, with the most gain for our people because of this plan having the most value in terms of publicity, and therefore advertising, resulting in revenue. A Declaration of War and no surrender. Plus a few other surprises for the Keulfyd. Media magic,” chortled the Controller, “and it is all for sale!”

  Back on board Dinkisid’s ship, they matched velocities with a much smaller ship which landed in their docking bay. The bridge crew watched, beyond shock, as four Cats and three Terrans walked onto the bridge. The Terrans were children, two girls and a boy. One Cat and the boy went to the communications panel and hooked up some equipment. There was a hissing noise and the added piece seemed to be destroyed! The Cat sat at the panel, the boy beside her.

  One Cat sat at each of the weapons boards with one Terran girl jammed between and the other Cat and Terran girl sat at spare chairs.

  The crew were startled by a squalling sound, painful to the ears. The boy translated, speaking Universal: “We are ready. Not all the boards of the fleet are joined up yet. We will tell you when they are and we can understand you, but the Cats can only communicate via us as their language is not in the Translators. This is because much of their language is visual and not the same in different situations. We had to learn the differentials. That’s person-to-person communication.

  Ship-to-ship and ship-to-planet is something else. It isn’t only auditory, it’s partly visual,” he lied. “The Cats have a secret way to communicate ship-to-ship via lights. It was easy for us Terrans to learn as we have something similar we call Morse code. We believe no one else can understand it.”

  “So you are totally taking over my communications board. I see that, but why are you taking over the weapons boards too?” asked the peeved Communications Officer.

  “Because weapons requires communication to coordinate targeting. And also because we expect the cyber war to knock out all your targeting, which is via computers,” answered the young girl by the weapons board. “The Loridsyl say they have the Keulfyd targeting codes and can interfere with them, which will interfere with their targeting of us. But we won’t use any computer targeting. We will fire manually, via an ability the Cats have called deflection shooting.

&n
bsp; “The Okme helped us with another handy piece of knowledge about Keulfyd physiology. They can alter direction when at battle speed but they try not to alter acceleration as it causes them vertigo. The Cats can best calculate deflection shots when their speed is constant and their course stays fixed, as it does when they are in a defensive wedge or line formation to maximize the use of their shields. We expect them to do that. They will have to decelerate soon and that will make targeting even easier again.” Seeing their incredulous expressions she tried again. “When they adopt a formation, we can attack and target accurately as their speed and direction will have to be constant. Communication they cannot block will ensure that we coordinate our attack, targeting the same area to get through the shield.” She sat back in satisfaction. This time they’d got it.

  Back on Torroxell the days dragged by. The bombardment continued. Debris occasionally fell, most bursting into flames on re-entry. Three days after the bombing started the Loridsyl told Sarah, “Another gunship is destroyed and a Flying Fortress has been heavily damaged. Several other ships have taken damage. They are now keeping their distance. Their tactic was to try to overcome the shield and they could not. They will, I think, be more cautious in future.”

  That night, the resupply ships slowed as they neared the shield and their fleet. In the lead ship, the Tactician had seen the Niseyen ships. He told the Commander, “It is a potential attack pattern. There are other ships potentially also a threat whose ID is not in the computer’s memory.”

  “We should be safe now, surely. We are within reach of the fleet,” said the Commander as she slowed her huge ship. “I find it hard to believe that Torroxell refused to surrender. I wonder what these idiots think they are doing. I expected a quick surrender and to be diverted and the crew have taken bets as to where. I wonder who won the sweepstake. I didn’t — I guessed diversion to Oberterk.”