by Kris Powers
“What is our ETA?”
“Arrival in forty—four seconds.”
Nadine turned and walked to the command chair of the Yamato at the center of the stuffy bridge. She thumbed the intercom on and set it to broadcast across the ship.
“This is Lieutenant General Nadine Hanover. We are proceeding to the coordinates of the defunct wormhole. I am your commander for this mission. What appears to be alien craft have been detected. All hands are ordered to battle stations.”
A klaxon immediately followed the broadcast. Only moments later as the shouting and running began to die down, the main monitor showed a view of forty Alliance ships blocking their way. Nadine inhaled a breath at the speed of their approach. The ships transmuted from tiny specs to a cloud of warships obscuring the view of the three alien craft in the background.
“Report!” Nadine directed to the science officer.
“It’s the Third Alliance Battle Group.”
“Is there a signal between the Alliance warships and the other vessels?”
“No Ma’am,” he responded.
“Contact the Alliance flagship. Tell them General Nadine Hanover requests to confer with them.”
“Aye Sir,” the communications officer replied from the opposite side of the bridge. “Captain Hubbard is responding.”
“Put him on.”
The screen showed a nonchalant officer in his late thirties.
“General Hanover, how are you?” Joshua Hubbard asked.
She attempted to probe deeper into the man’s consciousness before answering. She was surprised to find herself blocked by a field of nondisclosure. The captain was within the bubble of influence created by a Defensive. Elliot Fredericks stood behind the Captain but kept his focus entirely on her.
“Captain, are you in command of this mission?”
“No Ma’am. You need to speak to my commander.” Captain Hubbard motioned to the intense man behind him. “General, this is Admiral Elliot Fredericks.”
“Thank—you, Captain,” she said and turned her attention to the Defensive. “Admiral, how are you?”
“I’m fine. Are you well rested?” Nadine caught the reference. The others there would perceive a challenge. Underneath, Nadine knew he was referring to her true identity.
“I am.”
“General, why do you approach our aft quarter in an aggressive stance?” Elliot asked.
“It’s a prudent measure given your presence here.”
“You will note that we have not gone to battle stations. This is more of a diplomatic mission that we have embarked on. If you intend to fire on those ships out there, then we will have no choice but to respond,” he said.
Nadine felt uncertain of herself now that her edge was nullified. “Certainly not. We are more concerned with your intentions in these circumstances. You have approached these ships with a full battle group. Our interests involve the protection of those ships from your advances.”
“Then our interests coincide here.”
“Perhaps. What would you propose?”
“A joint venture: We will communicate a simple text message to meet in person along with a language packet for translation. Each of us will send a delegation to greet this new species,” Elliot replied.
“What if they refuse?”
“We’ll fall off that bridge when we come to it. Would you care to send the text message? You do have more experience in these situations.”
“Thank—you Admiral, I’d be delighted. In response to your gracious gesture, we can take an Alliance shuttle of your choice to the ship if your request is accepted.”
“Agreed.”
Lathiel was horrified to see a fleet of heavily armed ships confronting them. After one group arrived and scanned them, another swarm arrived a moment later. A language packet was transmitted minutes later. They downloaded it into their translator and responded with a broadcast to all of the Earth ships.
“Admiral, the alien ship is signaling,” a surprised communications officer said to Elliot.
“Let’s have it.”
The message crackled across the speakers and a voice that sounded Human except for a slight rolling of consonants was heard.
“We accept your request. You may approach our lead ship and dock at our starboard hatch. Two of our people with greet two of yours.”
“Transmission ended,” the communications station reported. Joshua looked up to his friend. “It was in English!”
“The language packet worked,” Elliot said. “Signal the Coalition General.”
Joshua nodded to the officer in charge of communications. Nadine appeared a moment later on the main screen.
“You heard the transmission?”
“Yes, I will depart for a shuttle immediately. Which of your ships shall I dock with?”
“The Excalibur, I will accompany you to the alien ship.”
“I look forward to it,” she said and showed a crocodile smile.
“I’ll see you there. Portside hatch, level twenty—one,” Elliot said. She gave him a curt nod and ended the transmission.
Elliot turned to Joshua and Madison.
“Take command of the fleet. Open fire only if the Coalition forces try to destroy you or the alien ships. Contact HQ immediately to advise them of recent developments.”
Joshua nodded and Elliot turned for the left hand exit at the back of the tech—heavy bridge. He walked past Joshua’s and into a lift. The elevator’s fast descent down the shaft didn’t account for the sinking feeling he had in the pit of his stomach.
The lift stopped with a soft chime. Elliot left the elevator with a sense of reprehension in his gut and walked at a fast stride despite his misgivings. The docking port looked cold and unwelcoming as he waited for his nemesis to arrive. Finally he heard the mechanical clang of metal hitting metal. After several slow seconds, the hatch slid open.
A woman of average height and a thin but solid build appeared at the docking bay’s exit. She stared at him with a mix of apprehension and anticipation of their meeting. She was very beautiful to Elliot’s aesthetic appreciation, and also incredibly dangerous. Nadine stepped down to the deck from the raised hatch and extended a hand as a show of cooperation for the passing crew.
“Admiral Fredericks, it is good to meet you in person.”
“Likewise,” he said accepting the handshake. “Please accompany me to the shuttle bay.”
She walked with him in silence to the primary shuttle launch located on that deck. Nadine ignored his hand presented to help her onto the fifteen foot long ship and seated herself into the place next to the pilot’s chair. It was only once the shuttle’s doors were closed that she spoke.
“I didn’t know the Alliance planted people in the military.”
“We have only done so in defense of our nation. The Alliance isn’t in the habit of planting spies within their own fleet.”
“I am not a spy,” she hissed. “We only do so because we would never be accepted into the fleet if our abilities were common knowledge.”
Elliot opted not to respond and instead concentrated on the specifics of launching the ship from the bay. They pulled along side the Ferine ship towards the indicated docking hatch. When they heard the thump of the port meeting their ship, they both got up and walked to the hatch.
Lathiel and Ranik stood at the vibrant blue hatch of their ship awaiting unknown guests.
“What do they look like?” Ranik asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Do you think that they’ll look anything like us?”
“Probably not. You’ve seen the Nevargh,” Lathiel replied.
“More reptiles?”
“Who knows? They may have ten arms.”
“What do we do then?” Ranik asked.
“Greet every one of them.”
“I hope they at least have skin.”
The hatch opened to reveal two humanoid figures without markings, high ears or enlarged fangs.
“It�
��s a male and a female,” Lathiel remarked in a Ferine whisper too low for most races to hear.
“Is your translator working?”
“I think so,” Lathiel replied, fingering a small two by one inch gray ribbed box attached to the breast of his cloak.
“Good.”
The two alien creatures stepped into the corridor after a brief look at an environmental analysis to confirm their ship’s readings. The female stepped ahead of the male and extended her arm.
“I am pleased to meet you. My name is General Nadine Hanover, head of diplomatic relations for the Coalition.”
The two Ferine looked quizzically at the extended arm. The male took the opportunity to interject.
“It is a gesture of friendship. We grasp hands to show that we have no weapons,” the male supplied.
“An interesting gesture,” Lathiel said. There was a hint of a growl to their misunderstanding ears as he grasped her hand.
“Are you angry?” Nadine asked.
“Certainly not,” Lathiel responded.
“We are not used to your ways, Sir. In our culture a growl is an aggressive stance.”
“Oh, I see,” Lathiel said. “With our culture it is a gesture of respect.”
“Well then, thank—you Sir.” Nadine said.
“My name is Lathiel, skipper of this ship. My associate here is Ranik.”
Both of the Humans realized the grace and majesty of the beings in front of them. They both had vertically slit eyes and both had nearly cat—like markings to their skin. The two Ferine stood at approximately six feet, four inches tall and had elongated teeth. Nadine couldn’t help but think of them as handsome cat—men.
“What is your name?” Lathiel asked of the male.
“I’m Elliot Fredericks, Sir.”
“Call me Lathiel.”
“Lathiel, are you the beings responsible for the wormhole?”
Both of the Ferine took on a guilty countenance.
“We are here because of that unfortunate event. A great war is raging in our space and the weapon was meant for others. We did not know that it would open a wormhole, much less have any impact on your civilization,” Lathiel said.
“You admit to your role in this?” Nadine asked.
“Of course. We did not know it would strike your system.”
“So you acknowledge your complicity in this?”
“General,” Elliot said.
“They admit they caused this destruction,” she said.
“They had no idea that this would be the result. You heard them yourself,” Elliot said.
“We are sorry. We never intended for this to happen,” Lathiel said.
“But it did,” Nadine retorted.
“The impact on us was far greater than the impact on your nation,” Elliot said.
“And? This attack is,” she began.
“An accident,” Elliot finished. “The Alliance believed this was the case from the beginning.”
“The Alliance believed?” Nadine repeated.
“Thank—you,” Lathiel said to Elliot.
“There are nonetheless concerns of your intentions towards our culture,” Nadine said.
“Yes, we wish to apologize. Our act against our enemies was never meant to have any effect on you or your people.”
“Will you join us for a meal in celebration of this fortunate meeting?”
“We’d be happy to,” Lathiel said.
“If you’ll give us a moment, we have to make our shuttle ready for departure,” Elliot said.
“We need to extend the deadline,” Nadine said within the confines of the shuttle.
“Agreed.”
“I wouldn’t say that under normal circumstances, but those upright cats out there are definitely not normal.”
“Then postpone the deadline,” Elliot said.
“I can try. My superiors may have different objectives.”
“Same with me, we can agree on that at the very least,” he said as he primped a flight seat. Nadine gave him a withering look and continued to ready the tan interior of the shuttle. “Ready?”
“As much as possible for aliens.”
“I’ll communicate our dinner invitation to my ship. Please bring in our passengers,” he said.
“Your ship?”
“Yes. Would you prefer yours?”
“If you want the cats onboard your ship, fine have them,” she said and turned towards the hatch.
“We would be pleased to have you join us,” Nadine said with a compulsory smile.
“Thank—you General,” Lathiel said.
“Please, call me Nadine.”
“Thank—you, Nadine,” Lathiel said and crossed into the shuttle’s interior.
Ranik placed an ostentatious smile on his face. “Thank—you, Nadine.”
She looked back at his smile of bright fangs and responded with ingratiating warmth. “You’re welcome.”
Nadine and Elliot sat in the pair of chairs at the front of the shuttle while Ranik and Lathiel took the seats behind them. Once they were underway, Lathiel looked to the looming warship in the forward window. He leaned forward in his seat to speak with Elliot.
“Is that your ship?”
“Only for the moment. I’ve taken temporary command of this battle group,” Elliot replied.
“As have I. The ships you see further in the background are my command for this mission. My normal posting is on our home planet as head of our diplomatic corps. That is why I was chosen for this first contact situation,” Nadine said.
The tiny shuttle wove under a gargantuan wing and flew behind the ship. Nadine activated her earpiece and whispered to someone for a moment. Elliot fired a small burst from a directional jet and spun the shuttle around to face a hangar located at the back of the ship. With practiced ease, he guided it in to the bright bay. The foursome rose from their seats and moved to the shuttle’s exit at the side.
“Please,” Elliot gestured towards the opening door.
“Please what?” Lathiel asked. His bright slit eyes regarded Elliot in confusion. Elliot smiled at one of the many idiosyncrasies of Human culture.
“I’m sorry Lathiel, what I meant was please exit the shuttle first. It’s a way of showing consideration in our culture.”
“Thank—you,” Lathiel said and stepped onto the hangar deck. Every man and woman stopped to take notice of the two tall Ferine standing in the open area.
“This way, please,” Elliot said, gesturing to the hangar’s exit.
They nodded and began walking along the suggested course. Both Lathiel and Ranik glanced nervously about them at the drawn out stares.
“You must forgive them gentlemen. They have never seen a non—Human before,” Elliot said.
“We can understand their reactions. Our race had the same response when we met the Nevargh,” he said.
“The Nevargh? Who are they?” Nadine asked.
“The species we’re at war with.” Ranik replied. “They have annexed close to three hundred systems in the past year.”
They exited the shuttle bay and moved into a narrow hallway.
“They’re that aggressive?”
“Their species are dark scaly bastards,” Ranik said. “They have two legs and two arms as you and I, but their eyes and skin are cold. We stared at them in shock when our people met them a century ago.”
“You are a fair sight better,” Lathiel said, changing the subject.
“So are your people,” Elliot said. He turned to his left and walked through a wide door parting at forty—five degree angles. The other three members of the group followed him into a small but elegant dining room. Here the walls were a bright burgundy with a slightly higher ceiling and wood flooring. A long table of cherry and six high backed chairs sat in the center of the cozy room. Joshua and Madison were already in attendance standing behind the chairs on the far side of the table.
“Gentlepeople, these are my friends: Joshua and Madison Hubbard. Josh, Madi, this i
s Ranik and Lathiel,” he said indicating the Ferine. “And this is Lieutenant General Nadine Hanover of the Diplomatic Corps for the Coalition.”
Elliot strode towards the head of the table. Ranik and Lathiel took the opposite side facing the couple. Nadine took the remaining position behind the chair facing Elliot. Once everyone was in place, the dinner party took their seats. Nadine was the first to speak.
“I have to admit that we would not greet you with such luxury on any of our ships. We have no need of this level of extravagance.”
“We only keep one or two such rooms on our ship for VIP occasions such as this one. Some diplomats can be very demanding. With your past experiences in such matters you undoubtedly agree, General.”
She offered only a thin smile in response.
“Yes,” Lathiel agreed as a half dozen attendants came in with the first course. Six bowls of French Onion soup were placed in front of them. “We have had similar experiences but don’t worry; we won’t complain. I can only speak for myself but I appreciate my surroundings and your hospitality.”
“Thank—you, Lathiel,” Elliot said.
“Incidentally, what is this? It smells wonderful.”
“It’s a soup made with onions, cheese, and bread. I hope you enjoy it,” Elliot replied.
Lathiel and Ranik inhaled a deep breath of the soup’s aroma and lifted their spoons to dig in. Ranik stopped for a moment.
“This is the correct utensil?”
“Yes,” Nadine replied.
Both of the Ferine put their spoons through the topping and into to the soup. They brought a spoonful of soup their mouths. They ruminated on the food for a moment and then nodded appreciatively.
“I take that you like it?” Elliot asked his two Ferine guests.
“It has an interesting taste to it. Is this the cheese?” Ranik asked, indicating a bit of Gruyere on his spoon.
“Yes it is.”
“It’s very good, we have something like it but yours is much,” he paused for a moment as he sought the correct word, “creamier. It is a nice compliment to the soup.”
“Does it meet with your expectations, General?”
