Fighting the Silent

by Bruno Martins Soares

  The Orink made the most incredible maneuver I would ever see in all my years in space. Incredible. Incredibly dangerous. Incredibly bold. Incredibly suicidal. The 50-battery destroyer was about to hit the Warhog, and then she climbed and… she rolled. Like a fighter-jet. She just rolled. And she over passed the supply ship from above, and… offered her belly to the torpedoes.

  No sound is carried in space. But I heard the first explosion. Deep inside my mind, it went like the loudest bang, snapping my brain in. My mouth was open. My eyes hurt. The fire was burning holes in my irises. It was obvious to all of us that the Orink lost hundreds of people just on that first explosion. And there were immediately more explosions, secondary, of fuel or ammunitions exploding. Whole pieces of the ship were being torn apart.

  Lara…

  And then the other torpedo hit her.

  Lara…

  It was a fatal hit. We knew it was a fatal hit. I knew it was a fatal hit. The destroyer was unrecognizable. There were more explosions. She was breaking apart. Breaking in half. I couldn’t believe it. We could see bodies of people being thrown into space, many of them with flames that extinguished almost immediately. All of them dead or dying in seconds.

  Lara…

  I couldn’t see blonde hair. I tried to spot it, spot it in any of the bodies, but it was too difficult to see, too far, too fast.

  Lara…

  “That’s it.” Said the Admiral. “Burn the probes.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. What I was feeling. I couldn’t believe I was there, seeing it. I couldn’t believe Lara was there, living it.

  “Mr.Iddo!” Called Zell. “Burn the probes. Now.”

  I think I said: “Sir!” My hand moved on its own. It lifted the protection, and it pressed the button. And then the light. The bright light. And then black.

  ‘Burning the probes’ was a desperate move. It meant blowing all probes in a flash of white light that illuminated an immense area. Like the flash of a camera. The probes would be useless afterward, and the ship would be medium-to-long-distance blind until new probes were deployed, but for a split second everything illuminated by the light would be ‘visible’ to the ship’s sensors.

  For a split second, the virtual environment around us shut down so we wouldn’t be blinded by the bright light. All went black. But then it switched on again. And she was still there. The Orink. Disintegrating. No survivors. Not for long. Not long enough. They would all die. No hope.

  Lara…

  “CONTACT!” I heard myself shout, my eyes mechanically looking at my screen. There it was. The Silent. The image of the Silent, the slick dark boat. The killer. The murdering bitch. Preparing to fire again. Finally uncovered.

  “SOLUTION!” Shouted Weapons.

  “ALL ODDS FIRE!”

  “ALL ODDS FIRE!”

  And then the whole Universe vibrated violently with the echoes of 500 missiles roaring through their tubes and jumping into action. The tails of white smoke blocking the field of vision.

  “The Viker is firing. The Taurus is firing, sir!” Said Zell.

  I couldn’t see the Orink. I couldn’t see it anymore. And then the missiles got further away, and I could see it again. And the missiles started to explode, and we saw the Silent with our own eyes, finally, and she was exploding. And the Orink took another torpedo, a last torpedo, and exploded even more, surprisingly, the wreck exploded even more. And the Silent exploded. Big, huge explosions of hundreds of missiles hitting their target. Her death very quick. Much quicker than the Orink’s. Much quicker than Lara’s.

  Lara…

  “Target destroyed, sir…” I whispered.

  Looking back, I remember no one celebrated. Not on that bridge. We must have been all in shock. All looking at our colleagues, our comrades, and friends… and lovers, losing their lives in a terrible… unbelievable… hell.

  “Did the Taurus and the Viker have their probes burned as well, Mr.Zell?” The Admiral seems to have asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then tell the Dolymph she’s the eyes of the fleet, now, if you please.”

  “Yes, sir. I beg your pardon, sir, shouldn’t we…?”

  “There won’t be any survivors, Mr.Zell, but please signal the Pleeto and the Syrius to have a look.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Useless… It’s useless…

  *

  There were no survivors from the Orink.

  It had been a brilliant trap. Carefully planned and executed. The Silent had lured the destroyers and frigates away with the buoys’ distraction. And then attacked the weakest point in the fleet. The supply ship. Without all those supplies, the fleet would never reach Torrance. Would never project its strength and its image on the side of Torrance. Would not be in the way of the first wave of Axx attacks on the Kingdom.

  In the end, it succeeded.

  *

  Commander Zell told me to sit opposite his desk and explained it to me.

  “We’re turning back, Mr.Iddo. We’re not going to Torrance. The Navy still can’t believe the 2nd Fleet almost got beat by a single Silent Boat. The Admirals are astounded. And the President thinks it’s too dangerous to let the fleet go into the inner solar system, now. We would be sucked into a war we clearly are not prepared for. So we’re turning back.”

  “Then we lost the battle, sir?” I was stunned. Lara had died for nothing. The Orink had been lost for nothing.

  Mr.Zell sat back in his chair.

  “To be honest, Mr.Iddo, I’m not sure. The consequences of what happened will take some time to sink in. I don’t think we can keep looking at the war and the Navy the same way we were. We can’t assume we have the most powerful ships in the system anymore. Not if they’re close to useless against these Silent.”

  “But Torrance…”

  “Torrance will have our help, don’t doubt it, Mr.Iddo. Webbur will figure out a way to help it. It must. But for now, the fleet is keeping out of danger.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I sat back and lowered my eyes to the floor.

  “I know you had friends on the Orink.” He said.

  I looked up.

  “I also had a lot of friends there. And I will miss them. But be sure of one thing, lieutenant…”

  He hesitated.

  “What, sir?” I whispered.

  “Many more will die before this is over.”

  And he was right. Before it was over… I would just lose count.

  But I would never forget Lara.

  *

  Later on, I found myself lying on my bunk. My thoughts were stubbornly returning to the same images. Lara, the Orink, the explosions. I felt numb and drowning. Gaddy, from the T’s, got in and I think he looked at me. Maybe he wanted to say something. But he didn’t. He went to his bunk and left me alone. Left me staring into nothing.

  Then, there was a whistle. I looked at the yellow plate of the loudspeaker on the ceiling.

  “Hands of the Magnar,” it called with a familiar voice. “This is Admiral Hedde speaking.”

  Throughout the ship, everyone would be looking at a yellow plate.

  “My friends, the last few hours have been surprising for many of us. For long we have been training together, and I know you all personally. Some better than others, but be sure I know you all. Through all the training we did, all the service we paid, I can with no doubt in my mind consider us, Webbur’s 2nd Fleet, the most well-trained fighting force in the Universe. But for all our training, I know that most of us, maybe all of us, were not prepared for the pain and loss we have experienced. We all had friends and family in the Orink. We all had promises of good moments, of smiles, of love, of support and friendship. What we now have is pain. Is loss. But also memories. And those are the ones we should keep and cherish to guide us through our paths in the dark.

  “And paths in the dark we will have. We were brutally and treacherously attacked and be sure we will be again in the future. We are heading to war. Maybe not right now,
but be sure it will be there further ahead. So stand firm. And stay together. Cherish our good moments and our memories together. Hang on to our excellent training and our excellent comrades standing at our sides. And we will defeat the beast. With the certainty of destiny. Thank you all.”

  And the loudspeaker got quiet.

  Thank you, sir, I thought.

  I closed my eyes. I felt a single tear form and slip through the side of my eye. The cold and wet drop reaching my ear, uncomfortably.

  And I wiped it off.

  And I turned to the side.

  And I fell asleep.

  EPISODE 2 – THE CONVOY

  A sailor woke me up.

  “Sir. Sir. We’re here, sir.”

  I looked up, nodded and closed my eyes for two more seconds. When I opened them again, I was ready to go. I picked up my bag, loosen my seat belt and slid from the seat, holding myself to the handles on the walls. The shuttle was too small to have gravity controls, so I glided through the aisle until I found the airlock exit.

  In seconds I was aboard the W.S.Harvy, where the 1G gravity allowed me to walk with heavy steps through the narrow corridors, ignoring almost everybody who couldn’t tell me where my cabin was. I opened the small door and looked inside. A tiny cabin. But it was mine alone and these days that was as good as gold. I threw my bag into a corner, sat on the bed, against the wall and held my face in my hands for a while. I hadn’t been sleeping lately. Not for a while. Not since the Orink-incident, as they called it.

  “Hi.”

  I looked up. She must have been just 26 or 27. Five or six years older than me. She was leaning against the door, in her slim, well-built figure, her hands in her overalls’ pockets, smiling peacefully as if she was strolling along in the countryside. Her long blond curls pinned behind her head. Her slender face and almost wide mouth accommodating an exquisite straight nose. And her green-gray eyes gazing as smooth as silk.

  “I’m Mirany Cavo.”

  Startled, I jumped into attention.

  “Sir!”

  *

  Admiral Hedde himself had called me on the Magnar, a few weeks ago. I had climbed the escalator to the C-Team HQ and had been introduced into his office.

  “Mr.Iddo, we’re going to lose you, I’m afraid.“

  My heart sunk even lower than it already was. He continued.

  “It is vital we keep open the flow of goods into Torrance through the Dark Sea. Without it, our ally cannot resist. This means a lot of dangerous trips by our supply ships across the Sea.”

  He blew his nose in a feather-handkerchief.

  “You know better than most how dangerous the trips are going to be. Silent Boats will definitely prey on the convoys, either Torrance’s or ours. They will make a sailors’ life a living hell, you can be sure of that. So the Navy has been recruiting a major supply fleet, getting good sailors from the civilian side. They won’t be exactly Navy, not exactly military, but not exactly civilian either. Of course, we won’t be able to protect everyone. The 2nd Fleet won’t be able to be everywhere and probably won’t be cruising too far from the Mirox. And we can’t engage beyond the Mirox if not fired upon. We’re still not at war. So you can see how dangerous this will be for the convoys for a good part of the journey, isn’t that so?”

  “Yes, sir” I almost whispered.

  “And so they are asking for officers, Navy officers, warriors, who can integrate the convoys and help them pull through. We’re sparing everyone we can.”

  Merchant fleet… I couldn’t believe it.

  “You’ll be placed on the Harvy. As First Officer. She’s led by the daughter of a friend of mine, you might have heard of him, Admiral Vincenz Cavo?”

  Of course, I had heard the name, but this was even worst. I was being led by a woman! There were women in the Navy, certainly. Many of the Magnar’s crew members were women. But the Navy didn’t want them on the Towers. The command towers were, so to speak, a boys’ club. There were no women First Officers, Captains and certainly not women Admirals. I had never thought much of the subject. The Navy was my home and whatever she decided was fine by me. But recent events had taught me different. As far as I was concerned, women did not belong in the Navy. They should be home. On solid ground. Making sure we had where to return to. Safe.

  But I wasn’t to be in the Navy. I was to be in Merchant fleet, and for them ‘anything goes.’ I was being demoted. I didn’t know why, but I was being demoted and punished.

  “This is neither a demotion nor a punishment, Mr.Iddo.” said the Admiral. “You won’t leave the Navy. You’re a Navy officer, and this is what the Navy needs you to do, and for sure it won’t be an easy job. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  *

  “Can I come in?” asked Captain Mirany Cavo at the door of my cabin. I was still in attention.

  “Yes, sir.”

  With her hands in her pockets, she came in and sat on a lonely chair. She crossed her long legs.

  “At ease, Mr.Iddo. Sit down.”

  I sat on the bed, again.

  “You come from the Magnar, right?”

  “Yes, sir. Signals’ junior officer, sir.”

  “Big change, then.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’re not one of those who thinks being here is a demotion or a punishment, are you, Mr.Iddo?”

  I probably turned red as a tomato.

  “No, sir.”

  “We’re all experienced space-sailors here, Mr.Iddo.” She still showed the nicest smile. “We all have crossed the Dark Sea dozens of times, and we know the way to Torrance and back. What we don’t know is how to fight an organized military navy. What we don’t have is military experience or training. That’s why we need you. ”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Some of the boys and girls don’t understand the nature of the game we’ll be playing and think you’re just here to make sure we’re loyal. To check on us. But I think differently. I think we’re going to have Silent Boats all over us and that this will be a long and bloody war, declared or not. What do you think?”

  “I agree, sir.”

  “Can you help us against the Silent, Mr.Iddo?”

  For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t think anyone could help them against the Silent. They were sitting ducks. All they seemed to have was a herd advantage: the Silent simply wouldn’t be able to kill them all. Kill us all.

  “I’ll do my best, sir.”

  She looked at me for a moment. Judging me. Then she got up, her hands in her pockets. Turning to leave.

  “Welcome aboard, First Officer.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  She smiled.

  “And don’t call me ‘sir.’ ‘Captain’ will do.”

  “Yes, s… Captain.”

  And she strolled away. Her hands in her pockets.

  *

  The Harvy was a 700,000 tons cargo ship, probably built in the low gravity shipyards of the Brury moon. She was operated by a crew of 250 men and women. This time, she was filled with food, industrial glass, and tyrium containers, a material Torrance would need for probe manufacturing.

  There was a stark contrast between the disciplined high tech hallways of the Magnar and the stoic narrow corridors of the Harvy. Most crew members smiled at me and were kind, but no one stood into attention nor carried a spotless uniform. Otherwise, the ship was indeed clean and organized for the most part. There was an air of excitement on board, but also of worry.

  The Main Bridge was totally different from the one Admiral Hedde used to control the 2nd Fleet. The C-Tower was on the protruding bow. The bridge was on top and didn’t have a hi-tech virtual environment as the Magnar did. Instead, it had large space-armored-glass windows all around and several screens, showing the scans from the surrounding space.

  On each side of the Captain’s and the First Officer’s chairs were two descending steel vertical automatic stairs, leading towards the lower observation post, where one could loo
k at the belly of the ship. I couldn’t imagine, at this point, the number of times I would be forced to climb up and down those stairs.

  Six people worked in the bridge. Most of them, women. Captain Mirany Cavo gave me a warm smile as I came in. I saluted her, and she smiled even more, taking a finger to her forehead in a relaxed gesture.

  “Mr.Iddo, welcome to my bridge.” She leaned against her seat, her hands in her overalls´ pockets. “Let me introduce you to the team.”

  Loly was a small, maybe a bit ugly, girl with a funny smile. She was the Tech, the Harvy’s version of the T-Comm. Her big black eyes looked at everything at once, and she could muster any machine you’d like.

  Zhany was a stark, beautiful brunette in charge of signals and sensors. She didn’t speak much, but you would listen carefully to everything she said. She had a beautiful voice too, and I got to know many sailors who were hopelessly in love with her even without having ever seen her.

  Krytia was tall, dark, wide shoulders, had a notable big nose and intelligent eyes. She was the ‘Q,' handled Logistics and nothing was ever too perfect for her, even though she had a pleasant way to work it out.

  And finally Rock, the pilot, a sixty-something white hair white bearded man, with wisdom beyond his years and not too keen to talk about it.

  They all greeted me with nods or smiles. And then the Captain said:

  “Would you please show Mr.Iddo how your stations work? We have about half an hour before we leave.”

  “We leave for what, s… Captain?” I wondered.

  “We have a meeting at the Ascim, Mr.Iddo.” She pointed towards a destroyer we could see at 10-o’clock through the window. “She’s the head protection of the convoy. Her Captain will brief everyone about the trip, and I want us both there. You’re very ‘Navy-like,' so they’ll respond better to you. And I want you to tell me what they’ll be up to as well, of course.”