by Don Foxe
“Are you finding your time aboard instructive, Captain Canedee?” Coop asked.
The dark skin, white-haired alien turned his attention away from the communications console. Storm currently monitored coms. Canedee observed her work, from over her shoulder, for several minutes.
“Extremely, Captain Cooper,” he responded. “I volunteered for your mission, hoping my experience fighting the Zenge would be valuable. I am impressed with the quality of your ship’s armaments. Your space-fold travel is incredible. If the Mischene had such technology, we would have stopped the Zenge in the Aster system.”
“Mischene battlecruisers, commandeered, and used against us during the fight in our own system, nearly defeated us,” Coop admitted. “Your technology is not far removed from our own.”
“True. Mischene vessels have traversed space for nearly five thousand years. Your species is only beginning to make interstellar trips. Your ability to travel without the limits of wormholes, and possession of weapons of incredible power trump experience. And you defeated those Mischene battlecruisers.”
“Operated by Zenge,” Coop reminded him. “I’m sure it would have been much more difficult had seasoned Mischene commanders been in charge.”
“Most likely,” the alien officer replied.
“Captain Canedee, you have experience with the Zenge, and as an experienced commander, any suggestions regarding my bridge? If the Zenge already occupy the Quentle system, those you see now will face the initial engagement.”
“Your people appear competent. Your navigation officer is Bosine. Not regarded as a confrontational race. The pilot appears young, and I would surmise, inexperienced. A scientist, and a science station are inconsequential.
“Col. Kebede is well-qualified to command systems, though I would place an officer of her experience in charge of Operations and Tactics. ASkiilamentrae has proven her merit, but her experience in battle is limited to the single event with the Zenge.” Canedee ignored Sky’s darkening hue.
“AStermalanlan, on the other hand, is the perfect operative for communications. Fell exceed in such technology.”
“Thank you, Captain. I appreciate your insight.” Coop added nothing more.
“It is why I volunteered to accompany you, Captain. If there is nothing more?”
“Nothing.”
The tall, thin, erect Mischene departed the bridge. The door closed, and Kebede said, “Prick.”
Giggles and snorts sounded agreements with the Ethiopian’s assessment.
“I asked his opinion,” Coop reminded them. “Harper, I don’t care about your age, but you do lack experience.” He addressed the youngest on the bridge. “I want you to study everything available regarding Zenge attack strategies, as well as anything Yauni can teach you about the Quentle system. You have nearly four days before we exit space-fold, and access to a simulator in the training center. Use your down time wisely.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied. “Thank you, Captain. I will be ready.”
“Fallenitsch, I’ve seen the after-action reports for the Star Gazer crew. The Captain underestimates the Bosine. You handle battle conditions exceptionally well.
“Dr. Aziza, Captain Canedee does not realize everything you bring to the table. Your fields of expertise include bio-chemistry, as well as chemical engineering.”
“They do,” she confirmed.
“When we enter the Quentle system, I want you to monitor bridge personnel vitals. If anyone becomes over-stimulated, dehydrated, expends too many chemicals, or gets close to the edge, your job is to bring them down. You know better than anyone aboard what excitement, fear, and stress can do to someone’s personal chemistry. When you see warning signs, address them. Can you do that?”
“Of course, Captain. I will have Kennedy configure my station to monitor external conditions, as well as the bio-chemical levels of everyone on the command bridge. Will you want me to inform you first of any concerns?”
“Not if we are under battle conditions,” Coop replied. “Take any concerns directly to the person. Feedback alone is generally sufficient to regain control. If someone looks like they may need replacement, inform Kennedy. I want a back-up on site before they’re needed, not arriving too late.”
He addressed the bridge. “You heard. If you take it past the limits necessary to function properly, I will replace you, and I will not accept any bullshit. If I put in a back-up, get the hell out of the way. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir” answered a chorus.
“May I speak with you privately?” Dr. Aziza asked.
“Col. Kebede, you have command. Doctor, we can meet in my office.” He invited her to precede him through the door connecting the bridge to his workspace.
Coop offered a chair to the chemist, who politely declined. Coop took his seat behind his desk.
“You do not know me, Captain, but I know of you.”
“I’m afraid the entire world knows of me, Dr. Aziza. Not by any desire on my part for fame, but I’ve made the news too many times.”
“True, but what I know of you is from before your Space Ranger Project. My mother was among the girls you rescued in Ajej, from the murderers and rapists called Allah’s Hand. To this day, she speaks of you with awe, if not love. She told her children about the shadows who came in from the desert to rescue thirty girls taken from their school in Tatouine.”
“Tunisia,” Coop said aloud. “I had forgotten your home is Tunisia. I hope your mother is well.”
“Well, and overwhelmed with pride her daughter flies into space with her hero." Aziza sat, having gotten the introduction out, and her nerves under control. She was a plain woman, not pretty or ugly, and did little to accentuate her looks. Dark olive skin, and a straight, strong nose. Dark eyes, and heavy eyebrows. Black hair pulled back into a bun. She was thin, but not bony. “I am honored to serve with you, Captain, and happy to discover after three decades, you appear to be the same type of man my Mother knew. I would appreciate it if you would consider calling me Dorra.”
“Of course, Dorra. If I remember my Arabic, Dorra means pearl.”
“You remember well, Captain,” Aziza answered with a radiant smile.
“Coop, Dorra. Fair is fair. Call me Coop, unless the situation requires something more formal,” he replied, also smiling.
“I will return to my station, . . . Coop. I would like to begin having Kennedy design bio-scan icons, and readings for the bridge crew. I am sure the ship’s doctor can provide baselines for everyone,” Dorra said, standing. “Again, thank you,” she said, as she headed for the door.
“Just do your best, Dorra. No need to thank me for keeping you on station.”
“I thank you for saving my mother. Without you, there would be no her, and without her, no me,” Dorra replied, and left.
Sky came through the door.
“Do you agree with the Mischene? I should not oversee Operations?”
“I do not.”
“You told the others he was wrong about them, but said nothing about what he said about me.” Her skin hue had turned a deep shade of blue. Her blood pressure rising with her anger.
“There was no need,” Coop told her. “You flew by my side when we engaged the Zenge. I know exactly what you are capable of, and as Sindy pointed out, Canedee is a prick. A well informed prick,” he added. “He seems to have learned a lot about the ship, and the crew.”
“You do not intend on replacing me at Ops?” Sky’s coloring retreated a shade.
“Of course not, Sky. Return to you station. You’re Ops now, and when we arrive.”
Mollified, she nodded, and returned to the bridge.
Cooper took a moment to consider the minor confrontation. He had to treat Sky, and Storm, as members of the ship’s crew. He also needed to remember, as aliens, they were still learning protocols. They were also civilians, unfamiliar with military procedures. They were lovers, and equals within their relationship. Elie may have hit the mark. Did he maintain the personal rel
ationship with the two women for the distraction they provided? Were they distracting him from his responsibilities?
CHAPTER 13
Two hours prior to scheduled space-fold exit, Coop returned to the bridge.
“The Quentle system appears quiet, Captain.” Kebede reported. External scans operated from inside space-fold, but a method for communications remained elusive. Audio, visual, or digital messaging failed to enter, or escape a space-fold bubble. A compelling problem for Space Fleet’s science department, but without solution to this point in the evolution of space travel.
Rys, the fourth planet from its star, and the only inhabited world of the six in the system. The others composed of dirt, dust, and rock, except number six, a gas giant. Two moons orbited Rys, each approximately half the size of Earth’s moon. Both moons accommodated artificial-environment mining colonies. The planet maintained a Class-G (Goldilocks) human-friendly biosphere. At two-thirds the size of Earth, a point-eight-nine gravity existed due to its dense mineral composition. Mix of vegetation. Fresh water lakes, rivers, and saline oceans. Mix of topography. More mountainous zones than Earth, but a more stable crust, and less tectonic movement. Only a couple of active volcanoes found on the entire planet.
“Any unusual activity around the planet?” Cooper asked.
Kebede answered, keeping eyes on the holo-screen above her console. “Scans detect two substantial space stations. One in fixed orbit above the North pole, and one over the South pole. At this distance, I cannot confirm the number of ships docked. Scans indicate life-sign readings, but too much interference to give you numbers.”
She swiped her hand through the display, and flicked her fingers to create a wider view of the solar system.
“Other than natural objects within the solar system, there are satellites, and buoys, but I cannot tell you their purposes. A wormhole gate is within one-million miles of the planet, but scans indicate no ship activity anywhere in the system.”
“That is strange,” Sky interposed. “Gate access within a few days travel for most ships, means this is a prime trading time for Rys. It is also a strategically important opportunity for a Zenge attack.”
“Any signs of an attack?” Coop asked Sky, currently analyzing operational, and tactical scans.
“There’s no space debris. Some scattered ion signatures, traces of plasma, but nothing to indicate a ship entering or exiting via the wormhole in the last forty-eight hours. Thermal blooms appear on both moons, and on the planet. Consistent with generators, power crystal discharges, or something as simple as over-sized heating systems. No explosive residue, and no residuum from engines designed for space flight. No signs of an attack.”
Sky turned to look directly at Coop, assuring she held his full attention before continuing. “Again, I find the lack of vessels disturbing. We should see activity, especially with the wormhole near the planet. Someone should have used the gate in the last two days.”
“Noted,” Cooper replied. “Kennedy, after we drop out of space-fold at the system’s rim, we will immediately re-engage for in-system travel. Have Yauni, and Judge Korr report to the bridge one hour before our scheduled arrival at Rys. I want them present, and prepared to make contact with the authorities when we emerge.”
“Yes, sir,” the AI replied.
Coop appeared serene in the command chair, watching the digital display count down the time until space-fold exit. He made a dangerous decision, requesting a course with an arrival point 100,000 miles from Rys.
They would reenter natural space in a position half-as-close as the nearest moon. The gravitational wells within a solar system could wreak havoc on a ship operating with space-fold. The system-to-system navigation plotted their rim arrival to a point where the system’s edge was nearest Rys. This address placed other major orbital bodies on the opposite side of the planet. Kennedy calculated their in-system re-entry within the planet’s exosphere fell within safe parameters. Barely.
The digital display read 1:01:15, when the bridge door opened. The tall Lisza Kaugh, and the petite Ventierran entered. Coop stood to greet them.
“Judge Korr, Yauni, we arrive at Rys in one hour. I suspect they will be rather shocked at having an unknown ship suddenly appear in their personal space. Yauni, I hope your appearance will calm them, and, Judge Korr, I hope your history with the people of Rys will work in our favor.”
Yauni spoke first, “I am positive I can make your first contact with my people successful.”
The dark-skinned Ventierran smiled at Yauni’s pronouncement. “Once they realize you come as a friend, and a potential ally, they will welcome you to Rys, Captain. Please, you may call me Tasha. Judge Korr sounds a bit snooty.”
“Tasha, the planet, and the system appear calm, but I want you both seated, and harnessed when we enter natural space,” Coop said. At the rear of the command bridge, he pressed a panel, and two seats appeared. “I realize the harness straps may bind you, Yauni, but I hope it is for only a few minutes. Entering natural space within a planet’s gravity well may prove rough.”
The alien Big Foot stretched, then took a seat. It was not within his cultural mores to allow females to sit first.
Seated beside the hairy giant, Korr looked even smaller than before. Smaller in size, but there existed a dominating presence to the woman.
At thirty-minutes, Kennedy warned personnel to prepare for entry into natural space, and report to battle stations. All hoped battle-prep precautionary, but recognized the prudence.
“ENS Leigh, the moment we exit space-fold, I want this ship at 25,000mph, and circling the planet. I want the sonic shields up asap.”
“Aye,” Leigh replied.
“Storm,” Coop turned to the alien, currently a darker shade of blue, indicating a higher level of excitement. “As soon as the bubble is down, open communications to the planet on all channels. Make sure they are aware we do not pose a threat.”
“Aye,” Storm said, mimicking Leigh.
Fallenitsch announced the five-minute mark, and exactly five minutes later the green, brown, and blues of Rys filled the SHD screen. Leigh immediately set an oval, orbital course at 25,000mph. Storm instituted audio, video, and digital requests for communications across bands she knew Rys’ space control centers used, both on the planet, and the orbital platforms.
Storm reported, “We are receiving video contact from the space platform orbiting the northern pole. On screen.”
Rhys disappeared, replaced by a massive, hair-covered being with a scowling humanoid face. “Who are you, and what are your intentions?” he demanded.
Yauni removed his harness, and stepped forward to stand adjacent the seated Captain. He addressed the screen image. “General Postatoon, it is Prince Yauni Taper Catacta. This ship is under my protection. They have brought me home, General. Please make them welcome.”
The Lisza Kaugh on the screen took a moment to absorb the greeting before responding, “Welcome home, Prince Yauni. We heard you, and your delegation had been killed, or captured by the Zenge at Neuvarusry. Are you safe?”
“I am among friends, General. These aliens rescued me, and my family. Please inform the King and Queen of my arrival. I would like to shuttle to the palace as soon as possible,” Yauni said.
“Certainly, Prince Yauni. I will have my people send docking instructions, and inform your parents,” the General replied.
Coop turned to Tasha Korr, who now stood near him, on his left, opposite the big Lisza Kaugh. “Prince?” he asked, quietly.
“He requested his station remain secret,” Tasha said, with a smile, and a bow of the head. “We were not trying to deceive anyone, Captain. I recognized the Prince in the cells. Everyone felt it best if no one revealed his rank. Even after our rescue, we simply did not know enough about humans to fully trust you with the knowledge you held the Prince of Rys. Even after deciding you were honest in your efforts to help us fight the Zenge, we did not know what we would face on reaching the system. I had to respect his wis
hes, Captain.”
Coop turned his attention to the alien on the screen. “Thank you, General, but I would prefer my ship not tethered to your dock. Orbital clearance is sufficient.”
“We would prefer, for security reasons, your ship docked at the platform,” the General replied, and rather snidely.
Yauni took command. “General Postatoon, you will provide orbital clearance for this ship. As soon as we have established orbit, a shuttle will transport me, Judge Tasha Korr, and a delegation to the Palace.”
“Of course, Prince Yauni, but we must take precautions. All spaceships are currently moored. We are using the plasma cannons on the planet, the moons, and both platforms to target the wormhole gate. We received reports the Zenge are heading to Rys. Whenever our scans indicate the gate prepares to open, we target the doorway, and bombard it with plasma fire. It prevents anything from exiting.”
Tasha Korr asked, “General, what if ships trying to exit are not Zenge?”
“We cannot risk allowing anyone to enter the system, Judge Korr. We cannot know if it is Zenge invaders, or someone else, until after they exit the gate. We must act first. We dispatched warnings to as many worlds as we could reach regarding our intentions, and asked they pass those warnings to others.”
“General Postatoon, I am Captain Cooper, commander of this ship. As I understand it, Rys has effectively created a blockade. How long can you maintain it, General?”
“The wormhole will move out of range of our cannons in three days. Even now, the plasma loads arrive slowly, with diminished force,” the General informed him. “We are attempting to refit a ship with a plasma cannon, but we may not have a solution in time.”
“Then I suggest you provide orbital clearance to them now,” Yauni told the General. “Our new friends are here to assist us. I need to transport myself, and them, to the palace quickly.”
