by Tori Harris
“No, no, it’s fine. Captain Prescott remains in command of our forces in the area, supported by Captain Zhukov and Commander Waffer from the Jutland. They are more than capable of handling the situation without my looking over their collective shoulders. Having said that, we never stop looking over their shoulders, of course,” Patterson said with just a hint of a smile. “At the moment, Captain Davis is managing our oversight of active operational areas while I continue to prepare our defenses in system. The truth of the matter is that there is very little we can do to help them at this point anyway. All of our C-Drive-equipped capital ships have already been deployed. Our strategy at Location Dagger at the moment is to simply allow the new Resistance arrivals to transition through the area and deal with them once they arrive near Earth — hopefully, on a more equal footing.”
“As always, your judgment in such matters is beyond reproach. I know you’re bound to be feeling an unbelievable level of stress right now, but just know that you have my — and the Leadership Council’s for that matter — absolute confidence. Now don’t get me wrong,” Sexton continued, with a raised eyebrow, “we both know that I’m actually the best man for the job —”
“You’ll get no argument from me there, sir, but, even under these circumstances, I don’t think I would switch places with you if I were given the opportunity to do so.”
“No, I would say not. There’s a big part of me that can’t help but envy all of you still fortunate enough to be doing operational work. The battles I’m fighting down here are of an entirely different sort.”
“I can imagine. In fact, when we didn’t hear from you for a while after Theseus departed, I was beginning to think I was going to have to put together another evac mission and pull you out of there like we did with Naftur.”
“In all seriousness,” Sexton replied earnestly, “I know you’re kidding, but I also know that you’d be willing to do just about anything that didn’t violate your own ethical standards to help me, if needed. I certainly appreciate the sentiment, but no matter what happens down here, please don’t even consider doing something like that. We were walking a very fine line when we took Naftur and Turlaka off-world without specific permission from the Leadership Council to do so. At this point, I’d say about half of the Council’s representatives have made public statements accusing me of masterminding some sort of military coup that resulted in the Wek ‘escape.’ They’re also blaming me for Chairwoman Crull’s removal from office. The rest of them are up to their eyeballs trying to hold things together long enough to deal with the current situation. Right now, I have the sense that we’re a heartbeat away from disbanding as an organization, and we absolutely cannot afford to provide Crull’s people with any additional ‘evidence’ that our military forces are operating outside of the Council’s control.”
“Understood, but how is it that she still has so many followers on the Council after everything that’s happened? I would have thought that after she brought in her own private army to take over the Headquarters campus … to say nothing of the attempted murder of the Commander in Chief in front of fifty plus witnesses —”
“That they might start to question her motivations?”
“Hell, question her sanity for that matter. Surely they have to realize that she’s not fit to hold public office, particularly one with such far-reaching responsibilities. She’s under arrest at this point, and one would have to assume that she’ll at least be indicted for the shooting.”
“Oh, Crull is not one you would ever want to underestimate. As you know, her late husband had a long and distinguished career — first as a businessman, then as a politician — and he was phenomenally successful at both. He was generally well liked, and those who didn’t like him, feared him. There was a persistent rumor, however, that Karoline was the brains behind his success. I think that’s probably nonsense, since they were obviously both brilliant people. Based on my interactions with the two of them, however, I’d say it’s fair to say that he was the one who was liked, and she was the one who was feared. As to her quote, unquote ‘arrest,’ I’m surprised they’ve managed to hold her as long as they have.”
“I don’t understand. Surely you don’t think she will get away with what she’s done.”
“She might very well be permanently removed as Chairwoman — although she’s technically just on ‘administrative leave’ at the moment — but her status as a Leadership Council representative provides her with diplomatic immunity. This has never been challenged in court, to my knowledge, but all TFC member nations, including the United States where the incident happened, agreed to grant this status when they originally signed the charter.”
“So she’s free to do pretty much whatever she pleases and the host country can’t even so much as issue her a parking ticket,” Patterson observed wryly.
“Hah,” Sexton laughed, “interestingly enough, I think that’s actually something the host country can legally do, but if they did, there would be precious little they could do about it when the tickets went unpaid. In all seriousness, the Council is keeping her status very much under wraps at the moment, as you can well imagine. It’s possible she could be indicted by the authorities back in the Central and South American Union, but —”
“Uh, right, let’s see,” Patterson interjected, reading from a biographical summary on the adjacent wall-mounted view screen, “third wealthiest woman in the world, owner of a controlling interest in the second largest corporation in South America, globetrotting philanthropist with world-spanning political ties — not to mention celebrity status in all of the countries that make up the CSAU.”
“Exactly, so don’t expect to see her standing trial for attempting to knock off some ‘rogue military officer’ anytime soon,” Sexton said. “In fact, a couple of international news outlets have already referenced ‘unnamed sources’ who claim she is being illegally detained after attempting to thwart a military takeover of Terran Fleet Command Headquarters.”
“Jeez, now that’s rich, under the circumstances,” Patterson replied, rolling his eyes.
“Well, there’s how things should be … and then there’s how things are,” Sexton smiled. “Alright, regarding the business at hand, your last update indicated you intended for the two of us to attempt to make contact with the Guardian. I think I understand what you have in mind. Your primary goal is to ascertain its intentions once we come under attack, correct?”
“That’s right. We need to have some idea regarding what, if anything, we can expect it to do when the Resistance ships arrive. The last thing we need is for one of our ships to inadvertently do something that it interprets as a hostile action, so if it’s going to participate in our defense, there needs to be some sort of coordination to prevent any misunderstanding of intentions.”
“And if it has no wish to participate, you need some assurance that it will remain clear of your operations,” Sexton added.
“That’s correct. Frankly, I’m not sure which of these two options I prefer, but since we have no control whatsoever over what it does or doesn’t do, I would at least like to see if we can get it to agree to cooperate with us on some level.”
“It has made a number of rather ambiguous statements along those lines, as I recall,” Sexton observed. “One day it makes reference to how it can no longer defend us without our participation, the next it says something about us now having everything we need to defend ourselves without its help. I have to say, however, that it seems strange to consider that it might simply stand by and allow us to be attacked without intervening in any way. Why would it allow something like that to happen after sitting on us like a mother hen for five hundred years? In my mind, that seems like the ultimate in wasted efforts.”
“I suppose,” Patterson said pensively. “Unless the mother hen knows that at some point, we have to be able to fend for ourselves. And if we’re unable to do so —”
“It’s time to cut its losses and move on. I guess that does make sense if you co
nsider that the Pelarans seem to be all about playing the long game. You have to figure that if they’ve completed their ‘cultivation’ program enough times, there must have been instances where late stage failures have occurred. Anyway, we’re just speculating at this point, but I agree that it’s worth a try to see if we can get … what are they calling it again?”
“‘Griffin,’ but you won’t catch me calling it that,” Patterson scowled.
“Oh, right … get ‘Griffin’ to play along,” Sexton continued, smiling in response to his long-time colleague’s occasionally cantankerous attitude. “Do you think it will answer our hail?”
“I do, although there’s still so much radio traffic aimed in its direction that I think we’ll try a laser comlink like we used during the so-called induction meeting. At last check, the Navajo was just coming into range. Shall I give it a try?”
“No harm in trying it,” Sexton replied.
Patterson nodded in the direction of Ensign Fletcher, waiting dutifully at her Communications console nearby. With no appreciable delay, the view screen displaying the vidcon image of Admiral Sexton opened an additional window containing the smiling Human avatar of the Pelaran Guardian spacecraft. As if he had guessed the topic of conversation, he was once again wearing what appeared to be a close facsimile of the black flight suits worn by TFC pilots.
“Well hello, Admiral Sexton … Admiral Patterson. This is indeed a rare pleasure,” ‘Griffin’ greeted them in a particularly amiable tone. “I expected that I would hear from a TFC representative at some point, but I will freely admit that I did not anticipate that it would be the two of you. How can I be of service?”
“Thank you for taking our call,” Admiral Sexton began with the odd sense of uncertainty that always seemed to accompany a conversation with the sentient machine. “As you know, Admiral Patterson is our Chief of Naval Operations. For the duration of the current crisis, I have placed him in operational command of all of our military forces. We have some questions for you of an operational nature, so I would like to turn the conversation over to him momentarily. Before I do so, however, I want to assure you once again that we have absolutely no hostile intent towards you — now, or during any combat operations that may occur between TFC forces and those of the Pelaran Resistance.”
“Not to make light of such a serious subject,” the Guardian replied, smiling pleasantly, “but don’t you find their choice of names a little odd? ‘Pelaran Resistance’ makes me think of a group of Pelarans resisting something or someone — not some odd cross-section of the Sajeth Collective resisting the Pelarans. Clearly, they could have used some marketing help at the outset of their ill-conceived little movement. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to get us off-topic right away. Yes, I understand that you harbor no hostile intent towards me. I appreciate your taking the time to reiterate this fact, although it would be strange if we considered one another anything less than the closest of allies, given our long and very successful history together.”
You’re certainly an authority on marketing, Sexton thought. Everything that comes out of your virtual mouth sounds like a propaganda-laden campaign ad for the Pelaran Alliance. “We just want to avoid any potential for misunderstanding one other’s intentions,” he said with a polite smile.
“A sensible precaution. So, Admiral Patterson, is there something specific you would like me to do?” the Guardian asked.
“I hate to answer a question with a question,” Patterson replied, “but can I first ask that you clarify your intentions? You have told us that you defended the Earth against attack for centuries. Are you still acting in that capacity?”
“Ah, yes, that is the question, is it not? You face an imminent attack from an enemy that until very recently you didn’t even know existed. Worse still, it’s an ambiguous enemy, elements of which appear to share much in common with your species and profess to offer you friendship — perhaps even membership in their alliance at some point. At the same time, you struggle to come to grips with my choosing this point in time to openly reveal myself — and the Pelaran Alliance I represent — to your world. Unfortunately, and I know you’re not going to like this answer, there are long-established rules governing what I can and cannot reveal to a species that has been offered membership in our Alliance, but has not yet made its decision to join. Specific details regarding my continuing role as a defender of your world certainly fall within this category.”
Patterson stared at the Guardian’s synthetic, albeit completely lifelike, image for several seconds, thinking through his options before continuing. “As you say, we have a well-established history of successful cooperation with you during our species’ vetting process — a process that you personally supervised over a period of hundreds of years. And even though we have not yet elected to join, you have graciously extended the offer of membership — and full membership at that, based on our genetic ties to the Pelarans.”
“To my knowledge, there is simply no higher honor that could be conferred upon a civilization,” the Guardian said proudly.
“Of that, I have little doubt. So, then, is it logical that, having invested so much time and effort in preparing Humanity to take its rightful place in the Alliance, you would now abandon us in the face of possible destruction at the hands of the Resistance?”
“From your perspective, probably not, but I am simply not at liberty to provide specifics regarding what actions, if any, I might take in the event you are attacked. What I will tell you, however, is that you have been provided everything you need to defend yourselves from this particular threat with no further assistance from me.”
“If you will forgive the observation,” Patterson said, “it almost sounds as if you are implying that you see this as some sort of test.”
“Oh, come now, my dear Admiral, surely there are few challenges in life to which that term does not apply. ‘Tests’ come in many forms, and on scales that range from the individual to the civilization and beyond. As the old saying goes, it’s a ‘much of a muchness.’”
“Could we, then, impose on you to remain clear of the combat zone once our ships engage enemy forces?” Patterson pressed, undeterred by the Guardian’s typically evasive comments. “We would also appreciate having a commitment that you will refrain from attacking any vessels we designate as friendly or neutral. We will, of course, be happy to share a tactical data link with you so that you will have this information in real-time.”
“I’m glad you mentioned sharing data, Admiral Patterson,” the Guardian replied, ignoring his question. “I am transmitting a data stream as we speak that your AI will be able to display for you. Consider it an advance on the technological bounty your world will receive once you make the decision to join the Alliance.”
“Alright,” Patterson replied suspiciously. “And what sort of data are you sharing?”
“It’s nothing particularly exciting, I’m afraid. In fact, I believe your scientists are already working on something similar based on the technology used in your long-range NRD network comm beacons. I think you will find, however, that it will be of great utility in the coming days.”
Patterson looked in the direction of Ensign Fletcher, who had become accustomed to his habits when working in the Navajo’s Combat Information Center, particularly those where data communications were concerned. After initially setting up the vidcon with the Guardian, she had been closely monitoring the call, anticipating the next glance from the CNO indicating that he expected something to be handled immediately — preferably with no further explanation on his part.
Initially, his constant presence in the CIC and his rather exacting demeanor had been nerve-racking for the young officer to say the least, but now that she had a better idea of what to expect, she took tremendous pride in staying one step ahead of the “old man.” Perhaps even more importantly, the more time she spent in the company of Admiral Patterson, the more she respected and admired him — he was truly the kind of officer whose personal example inspired tho
se around him to offer nothing less than their best.
“I have the Guardian’s transmission, Admiral,” Fletcher replied immediately. “It’s formatted just like our standard Fleet data exchange streams.”
“I recommend displaying it on your holographic table,” the Guardian commented offhandedly. “You’ll need to set the scale for three light years or so.”
Patterson nodded his agreement to Ensign Fletcher, then turned back in the direction of the holo table just in time to see the display reformat itself per the Guardian’s recommendation. Sol itself was now depicted as a yellowish-white pinpoint of light on one side of the table. On such a large scale, the entire solar system out to the far edge of the Oort cloud now reached only halfway across the display, with no other astronomical features of any significance beyond. After a momentary delay (almost certainly for dramatic effect, Patterson assumed), eight red diamond icons appeared within the dark area beyond the system’s outer boundary, each one bearing the two-letter code indicating the type of enemy vessel it represented: one destroyer (DG), one cruiser (CG), and six battleships (BB). As usual, the Navajo’s AI provided some additional information in small text blocks adjacent to each contact, including their current speed as well an estimated time to reach a point within weapons range of the Earth.
“Are you able to see this as well, Admiral Sexton?” Patterson asked.
“I’m sure it doesn’t have quite the impact as it does on the holo table,” Sexton replied, “but yes, I see it. I assume that these are the remaining Resistance ships from Location Crossbow. Is this some sort of an estimate, or an actual, real-time display of their positions?”
“Really, Admiral Sexton, do you think I would bother offering you an estimate?” Griffin asked, seemingly offended by the implication. “Of course it’s a real-time display. And, as a continued example of our good faith, I will continue providing you with access to this information until the Resistance ships are no longer a threat. Note that this data feed will only display ships currently in hyperspace. Ironically, it was the Sajeth Collective’s repeated forays in and around the Sol System that allowed me to develop this tracking technique.”
