Genesis
Page 25
“The Alliance is an An’Atee concept founded on your most precious values. If we can make the Alliance work, those values will, in the years and centuries to come, spread across the galaxy, making it a better place for everyone.
“My people might have held such values once upon a time, but survival made your values a luxury we could not afford. I’d like to see us get them back. I hope you will show us the way.”
Ollie’s Story hit home in a way that words alone could never have achieved. Presented first to Alliance members, the Atee soon released it to the general population. Alliance plans had reached a point that would demand greater sacrifices as the An’Atee directed vast resources toward building new fleets. It was time for the An’Atee to reaffirm their commitment.
The Atee received that commitment from a vast majority of her people. And the An’Atee proved Angie right—she was no longer alone in her willingness to pull the trigger. Though untested and definitely not eager to kill, after seeing Ollie’s Story, some admitted to a willingness to try.
Chapter Twenty-three
Greg equipped every Alliance ship with the ability to use the StarDrive as a weapon of last resort, though he did not inform the Harbok of this capability. Ollie’s men eventually realized they had been excluded from something, and Ollie brought it up in a private meeting.
Greg just shook his head and said, “I told you at the very beginning that I was withholding certain information. You know it works. How it works will remain a secret until you Harbok join the Alliance.”
Ollie grumbled, but Greg did not waver in this area that was so important to him.
Grayson, a member of the Alliance’s Executive Committee, attended meetings whenever possible, though he was away more than he was home. Ollie joined most executive meetings, but he was not invited to become a member of the Executive Committee or the Alliance. That would come later if Lor Tas’val ever agreed to join the Alliance. Probably a lot later, as Ollie put it.
Ollie spent long hours working on battle simulations with Grayson, Greg, Angie, and two ex-admirals from Earth. They used Haldor as their training model since that was where they anticipated the next battle, but the plans would, theoretically, work anywhere. They left flexibility in the plans, knowing that experience was the best teacher. Until they joined battle with the Oort, no one knew for certain what would work best.
Fighters and scouts—which had been called laundry ships before receiving armaments—became the core of An’Atee attack forces, but crew members could not be stationed aboard such small ships for months, and possibly years, waiting for battle. They needed larger ships for a home base. Prime ships became the principal operating bases for the fighters. A prime ship normally carried five fighters. They could squeeze in ten since they did not carry exploration staffs and equipment, but fielding a fleet of a thousand fighters as the Harbok did would take 100 prime ships. There weren’t enough prime ships, nor had they brought enough warriors from Earth to man a thousand fighters.
Prime ships could fight if necessary, and they might have to. Much to the chagrin of the An’Atee, Grayson began improving the offensive capabilities of baseships as well. He attached them to fleets as support vessels, but they could fight if necessary.
Since a prime ship could carry ten fighters, they elected to call a ten-ship element a squadron. The Oort always approached in units of 33 ships centered around the equivalent of a prime ship. The Harbok normally countered the Oort with half again as many fighters as the Oort, partially to counter the Oort equivalent of a prime ship at the center of each group, but Earth had not sent enough men and women to field that number of ships. Realistically, the Oort would probably outnumber them two or three to one. In their favor, Grayson believed the advanced An’Atee ships were significantly improved over Harbok ships. His squadrons of ten fighters, bolstered by a prime ship when necessary, would each have to take on an Oort squadron of 33 ships.
Grayson had decreed that every ship entering combat against the Oort be captained by an officer from Earth. Furthermore, every ship would have at least one gunner who was willing to pull the trigger. The larger ships carried multiple gunners from Earth.
A captain led each squadron of ten ships. Admirals led elements of three squadrons, called a wing, and senior admirals serving aboard baseships and some prime ships kept the big picture in focus.
They went into space to practice with lasers set at training levels to prevent damage. Half the ships played the role of attacking Oort while the other half played the role of defender. As the fleets neared, the defending admiral, Grayson, divided up the attacking Oort, assigning his wings to different segments of the attackers. His wing commanders further divided up assignments among their squadron commanders. As Ollie predicted, the strategy worked until the two enemies joined in battle, but then it quickly reverted to a free-for-all melee of ship against ship.
Battles in space were all about time. When fleets met halfway, they were approximately three weeks from the primary world. The Oort always fought one-on-one, and Harbok fighters matched that strategy, using personal aggressiveness to win the battle.
Grayson was not willing to accept what Ollie called the inevitable deterioration of command. Simulator testing had convinced Grayson that two or three-ship elements survived longer, and given enough time, his additional surviving ships ultimately destroyed more enemy ships. He ordered his commanders to maintain tight control, and individual captains, all of them ancient warriors who had held command positions themselves, did their best to comply.
When things became desperate, Grayson ordered his prime ships to reinforce. Aboard his own ship, the bridge crew went to battle stations and engaged. To defend the ship, his captain had to shift into the combat mode, preventing Grayson from seeing the whole picture. Grayson lost his ability to command.
Ollie claimed that was always the case with the Harbok as well. That’s why it became every ship for itself. Without command and control, ships that ran out of targets used their best judgment in determining their next target.
Grayson was extremely unhappy with that limitation. When they got back to Alliance headquarters, he demanded modifications to the prime ships and baseships. He wanted command and control centers, Tactical Operations Centers as they were referred to aboard Navy ships of war on which he had fought. These centers had to be installed somewhere that would not interfere with activities on the bridge as the captain fought to protect his ship. He also insisted that each command ship carry a special tag in the display so he could more easily track developments.
Then he cornered Ollie. “Have you tried taking on a smaller group of Oort instead of the whole fleet at once?”
“Yes. They swarm in space just as they do on planets. It doesn’t work.”
“Hmm.” Grayson’s lips pursed as he considered. “We’re fighting our own ships right now. We’re evenly matched, so developing tactics against ourselves might not translate well against the Oort, but I’d like to try a different approach next time. We might try spreading our forces out along the enemy’s trajectory, taking smaller bites of them as they proceed inbound.”
Ollie objected. “Are you prepared to sacrifice your first-in ships? They’ll be annihilated.”
“Let’s try it out in the simulator,” Grayson suggested, “and let’s change the parameters of the Oort. We’ll make them more aggressive, but we’ll reduce their weapons capabilities to what you’ve already experienced. It might not work. If it does, we’ll try it again out in space. We could reduce lasers on the attacking ships, and we could . . .”
The discussion continued for weeks as An’Atee engineers went to work. Months later, the new Tactical Operations Centers were ready on the prime ships, and ships simulating attacking Oort had been modified to two lasers each and a more primitive cloaking device.
Ollie’s prediction came true. The attacking force lost, but more Alliance ships fell before the battle ended. The other modifications demanded by Grayson worked very well, and he
felt much more in control of the battle this time. Ollie was impressed, and that carried a lot of weight with all of them.
Grayson selected three other individuals from Earth for promotion to senior admiral and allowed each to lead Alliance battles in the simulators, watching over their activities like a hawk. He was not surprised to find their abilities equal to his own—after all, each of them had climbed the ladder to similar duties on Earth.
Greg, Kannick, Arlynn, and a number of high ranking An’Atee observed throughout the process without becoming intrusive. Theirs was not the job of commanding ships during battles—that was what they had brought these leaders from Earth to do.
Grayson was reasonably pleased with progress with one exception. He needed more men. Every person filling a position of wing commander or admiral was one less person to pull the trigger, and he wanted to include squadron commanders in that tally. By rights, they also should not be personally engaged in fighting their ships, but at the moment, there was no other choice.
Grayson and his men completed their training, if it could ever be said that training ended for people in their profession. After discussions that included Ollie, Greg dispatched half of them aboard a number of prime ships loaded to the gills with fighters, all of them capable of cloaking, to keep an eye on Haldor. Greg dispatched a smaller fleet to protect Earth. The rest of his ships remained in the Ariall system. Some trained with Harbok crews to hone their skills against these incredibly focused warriors. Others patrolled out in space.
* * * * *
Emily had been on Ariall for four years now. She had blossomed into an attractive and successful young woman who had everything going for her. She had managed to catch up to and actually surpass her Terran contemporaries in school. With a quick mind that remembered everything, she soaked up mathematics, the physical sciences, and the humanities.
She was particularly intrigued by the An’Atee love and respect for life and their unwillingness to kill even at the cost of their own lives. She delved deeply into this issue, with Greg and Arlynn watching carefully from the sidelines. While Emily gained a full appreciation, and she ended up sharing the An’Atee thirst for exploring the galaxy, she did not lose her ability to defend herself. She had not been tested in warfare, but she believed she would not have any soldiering limitations.
An important part of Emily’s education came from being around the leaders of the Alliance. Lots of discussions and even decisions were made in informal meetings at various homes, and Emily often attended. She mostly listened and learned, but she was willing to speak when she had something to say.
Her biggest struggle was time management. Greg and Arlynn always encouraged her to spend time at home, and her friends in school encouraged her to do the opposite. Boys were a constant distraction, though she had a lot more first dates than second dates. Whether it was herself or her circle of adult friends that intimidated them, only rarely did a boy make it past the front door of Greg and Arlynn’s home for an introduction.
As a young woman who had everything going for her, her biggest challenges came from being a young woman who had everything going for her. To the An’Atee public, she would always be the dying young girl who was brave enough to give up her previous life to live with the An’Atee. To Arlynn and Greg’s friends, the vast majority of whom were members of the Alliance, she was their daughter, which automatically came with special privileges even when it shouldn’t. To her classmates, she was the one who set the bar, and she set it high.
To herself, she struggled daily to meet the imagined standards set by her two sets of parents, one who had been President of the United States, and Greg and Arlynn who led the Alliance. In her own eyes, she could never match their bravery and success.
Her family and close adult friends would have had to be blind to miss this imagined shortcoming. Angie Tolland, with Greg and Arlynn’s blessing, decided to do something about it. She took an active part in planning Emily’s education.
Emily used every opportunity to pilot anything that flew. Arlynn was her primary instructor, but Greg shared the controls with her whenever he felt it appropriate, and he snuck her into Alliance simulators on the occasions that their schedules matched up and a simulator was free.
Emily celebrated her 19th birthday by taking a check ride administered by Angie. Unlike Greg’s first flight when he escaped Earth, Angie required that Emily demonstrate detailed knowledge of the mechanical aspects of the ship, emergency procedures, navigation, and planetary communications during her check ride. The fact that she was only flying a sub-orbital shuttle made no difference to Angie. She expected and demanded that Emily know as much about her ship and its systems as a fleet pilot.
When Emily landed back at the spaceport, Arlynn was waiting. Angie was first out of the ship, leaving Emily behind to put the ship into its standby mode.
Angie stepped to the ground shaking her head. “That girl scares me sometimes,” she said ruefully.”
Arlynn smiled. “I know exactly what you mean. She had some very bright parents.”
“Well, whatever it is, she aced it. This puts her way ahead of her contemporaries when she starts at the academy.”
Arlynn shook her head. “I don’t think her purpose today was to get ahead. She just wants to be a pilot.”
“Well, she’s now qualified to fly suborbital flights,” Angie said. “She’ll need higher qualifications that include intra-system certification and deep space certification before she can captain an Alliance vessel.”
Arlynn nodded. “Greg and I are always trying to broaden her horizons, but piloting is still at the top of her list. We can’t complain since she’s caught up academically with her An’Atee peers, and she’s ahead of most of the Terran girls her age. Even without our influence, she’ll be able to pick any specialty she wants.”
“How about the humanities?”
“Hard to say,” Arlynn answered thoughtfully. “She knows the appropriate answers when her teachers call on her, but I’m not sure she’s in sync with some of the underlying assumptions.”
“Does it surprise you?” Angie asked delicately.
Arlynn smiled a knowing smile. “She’s Terran through and through, so no, it does not. She talked a friend’s Terran mother into teaching her hand-to-hand fighting, and Greg has spent a fair amount of time on marksmanship with her. She’ll never have a problem ‘pulling the trigger’ as Greg puts it. I just want to make certain she knows that the trigger is a last resort. I wish there were courses in leadership. That’s our interest for her.”
Angie nodded. “I’m really proud of most of the crews we brought from Earth. I don’t think I’ve encountered a single trigger-happy person. They lived on the edge for so many years that I think they’re glad to have taken a step back from that brink.”
“Hopefully, that’s Emily’s situation, too,” Arlynn said. “What she went through has to have left scars. If it did, she hides them well.”
Emily stepped out of the ship and closed the door, acknowledged Arlynn’s presence, then she looked to Angie with an expectant expression on her face. Clearly, Angie had put her through her paces. Her hair was plastered to her head, and her underarms and the back of her flight suit were damp with sweat.
“You know you aced it,” Angie said to her. “Congratulations. Don’t let it go to your head.”
Emily shrieked and wrapped her arms around Angie, then she turned and did the same to Arlynn. “I’ve been so worried,” she said, pride and relief at her new qualification setting in.
“We should celebrate,” Arlynn said, smiling. “What would you like to do?”
Emily hesitated, then said, “The captain of the academy soccer team called and invited me to try out this afternoon.”
“That’s all-Terran, right?” Arlynn asked with a frown.
“It used to be, but the An’Atee kids are showing interest. It’s only 80% Terran now.”
“And it’s mixed boys and girls?”
“Come on, Mom. It’s m
ixed men and women. I can hold my own, so you don’t have to worry.”
“I get to choose who and what I worry about, young lady,” Arlynn said, partly serious and partly kidding. “You have a month before classes start. Can I drag us off to Grandmother’s cottage for a few days?”
“Can I bring some friends?”
“We might want to do the same. Can you limit it to two?”
“I can if you’ll let me fly us—both ways.”
Arlynn rolled her eyes. “I should have seen that one coming.”
* * * * *
To everyone’s surprise, Lor Tas’val showed up unexpectedly six months after receiving his first ships from the An’Atee. Several of his senior commanders accompanied him to demand more ships.
Tas’val finally got to meet Greg and, as important, the Atee. She was elated with the experience, and she presented him with the An’Atee’s first version of a true Harbok ship. Designed specifically with the Harbok in mind, the saucer-shaped ship looked exactly like Ollie’s ship on the outside, but it was pure An’Atee on the inside, though keyed to function with Harbok at the controls.
Tas’val and Jemara formalized a treaty of cooperation, a treaty that both of them believed would expand to include a true partnership at some point in the future. No mention was made of the Alliance and its goals, though Greg was fairly certain that Ollie had briefed his Lor on everything he had learned since coming to Ariall. Some things were better left off of official agendas for the time being. Tas’val had a lot of convincing to do with his people before they would be ready to go further. Nearly all Harbok remained skeptical of the An’Atee, and the vast majority of Harbok did not even know about the current level of cooperation.
Despite their misgivings about the An’Atee, Tas’val’s commanders coveted the new ships they received. They were willing to swallow a certain amount of pride if it meant more ships.