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Explorations- First Contact

Page 12

by Nathan Hystad (ed)


  “If it’s twice as big,” the CO mused, “it’s going to have a lot more surface area.”

  “Yes sir,” the Science Officer replied. “Even though the entire surface isn’t as densely populated as Earth, the part that is would support all of Earth’s population.”

  “Can you give me an estimate of the planet’s population?”

  “No sir, I can’t. As the OSO mentioned, it’s a water world, and most of the inhabitants appear to live underwater.”

  “But you said there was evidence of habitation.”

  “Yes sir, there is, but most of the visible structures appear to be launch facilities. There’s also a few large factories on some of the islands.”

  “Contact!” the Defensive Systems Officer (DSO) cried. “I’ve got several ships headed in our direction.”

  “Are you sure?” the CO asked.

  “Yes sir. There are three ships coming toward us from the planet. They are about halfway to our position.”

  “Bullshit,” Mr. Stevenson snarled from the back of the bridge. “We were going the speed of light. How could they have known we were coming, or from what direction?”

  “I don’t know,” Captain Montgomery replied; “perhaps they saw us when we stopped. What’s important is that somehow they’ve seen us coming, and they have reacted to our approach.”

  Stevenson paused, thinking. “How far back do you suppose they can track us?” he finally asked. “All the way to Earth?”

  “Unknown.”

  “Damn. We’re going to have to do something about them.”

  “Do something about them? What do you mean?”

  “If they’ve seen us and can track us, we’re going to have to find out how much they know about us.”

  “And if we can’t?”

  “We’ll have to board them and find out.”

  Arrival, Gliese 667C, Day Four

  Mr. Stevenson entered the bridge and walked over to the captain’s chair. “Anything new?” he asked.

  “No,” Captain Montgomery replied. “They are still coming toward us, like they have for the last three days. We are still attempting to initiate communications with them, but so far, nada. We’ve received no communications or transmissions from the alien vessels.”

  “Why do you suppose that is?”

  “Could be a number of reasons. They might not think like we do or communicate like us. They may use different parts of the electromagnetic spectrum. Hell, for all we know, they might communicate telepathically, and we’re just not built to receive what they’re sending.”

  “Is that possible?” Stevenson asked.

  “Of course it is. But so are about a million other possibilities. We don’t know anything about them, so it honestly could be just about anything.”

  “Could they be hostile?” Stevenson asked. “Would that be a reason for their lack of communications?”

  “Of course it could,” Captain Montgomery replied. “Like I said, it could legitimately be anything, including hostile intent. Maybe they see our heading toward their home world as an act of aggression, and they are responding to it.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “Of course it is,” Captain Montgomery replied, “but that’s the flight profile you gave me to follow.”

  “How do we find out if that’s the case?”

  “Well, we could stop and see if they change any of their flight parameters. If we act less aggressively, perhaps they will too.”

  “That makes sense,” Stevenson said with a nod. “Why haven’t you tried it?”

  Captain Montgomery shrugged. “I didn’t know you’d let me. I thought you were interested in boarding the alien ships.”

  “Only as a last resort. I would much rather work out a trade deal for what we need.”

  “As you prefer.” Captain Montgomery turned toward the helm. “Helmsman, rotate the ship and decrease our speed to zero relative to the ships heading toward us.”

  “Aye, aye, sir!” the helmsman replied. “Rotating the ship and decreasing speed to zero relative to the alien ships inbound to us.”

  “Now what?” Stevenson asked.

  “Now we wait.”

  Arrival, Gliese 667C, Day Six

  “Any change?” Stevenson asked two days later.

  “Yes,” Captain Montgomery replied. “They increased their speed toward us.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “Once again, it could be anything. They may think we had engine trouble and increased their speed to come to our aid. It also might be that they think we’re weak and are coming to finish us off.”

  “Which do you think it is?”

  “I think if they wanted to come rescue us, they would be transmitting on all frequencies or doing something to hail us. We are transmitting to them in a number of formats and on a number of frequencies; even if they don’t understand what we’re saying, they at least have to know we’re trying to communicate.”

  “What if they don’t have the technology to reply? They’re from a water world, right? Maybe they use sonar instead of radio.”

  “Maybe…but if they were transmitting, I think we would have seen it,” Captain Montgomery replied. “I think we have to assume they’re hostile until proven otherwise.”

  “Why would they think they need to attack us, though? I don’t get it.”

  “Well, our ship does have some very obvious weapons mounted on it.”

  “They could be anything,” Mr. Stevenson said. “For all the aliens know, they might be telescopes or some type of camera system.”

  “Perhaps the aliens are more worried about shooting first and asking questions of the survivors later, if there are any.”

  “The alien ships are close enough for me to get some images of them,” the Offensive Systems Officer noted.

  “Put them on screen,” Captain Montgomery replied.

  Two pictures appeared on the viewer, accompanied by a sharp intake of breath from everyone who saw them. The top half of the screen showed an indistinct formation of three ships, while the bottom half showed a close-up of the center vessel.

  “That looks like a warship,” Mr. Stevenson noted.

  “Why do you say that?” Captain Montgomery asked.

  “It’s got a lot of things that look like laser clusters mounted on the bow, as well as some kind of wings that look like they’re loaded with missiles.”

  “For the record, their lasers don’t look that different from ours. How do you know theirs aren’t some kind of camera system?”

  “Okay,” Stevenson said, “you’ve made your point. We look like a warship, but that ship looks like a far-more-heavily-armed warship.”

  “I agree,” Captain Montgomery replied. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I expect the missiles will have a longer range than the lasers,” Stevenson said, “and that we ought to be able to see the missiles coming if they’re launched. Can we turn on the displacement drive if they shoot at us and get away?”

  “Yes, we can. We can initiate the drive and shoot past them to the planet, and they wouldn’t be able to hit us. We haven’t seen any planetary defenses, so we should be all right there until they can get turned around and come back. That should give us at least a week to try to talk to the aliens on the planet.”

  “We haven’t seen any defenses on the planet?” Stevenson asked.

  “No sir,” the DSO said. “I’ve been all over the planet. If they have any defenses, they’re hidden underwater.”

  “Okay,” Stevenson said. “Let’s continue on, but be prepared to use the drive to get away from them if needed.”

  Arrival, Gliese 667C, Day Seven

  “The aliens are launching!” the DSO exclaimed. “It looks like they’re flushing their racks. Projecting 24 missiles inbound!”

  “Understood,” Captain Montgomery replied. “Time to impact?”

  “15 minutes!”

  Captain Montgomery turned to Mr. Stevenson. “Do you have any need to let the
missiles get closer to see what their capabilities are?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  “Good, me neither.” The CO turned back to the front. “Helmsman, initiate the displacement drive. Our destination is the third planet in the system. Initiate!”

  “Initiating displacement drive now!”

  He threw the lever, and the screen went black as the warp bubble enshrouded the ship.

  “Distance to destination, 100 million miles,” the helmsman noted. “Time to destination, just over nine minutes.”

  “We will be safe in orbit?” Mr. Stevenson asked.

  “Your DSO says that there aren’t any space-based defenses,” Montgomery replied.

  “That is correct, sir,” the DSO said, not indicating which “sir” he was addressing. “I didn’t see any space stations or orbital platforms. I can’t tell you what might come up from the planet.”

  Stevenson nodded. “Do we have a contingency jump in case something comes up at us from the planet?”

  “Yes,” Montgomery replied. “I asked the helmsman to program in a jump to the vicinity of their moon, which is about 250,000 miles away, as well as a jump of 10 million miles. If they launch missiles from the planet, we can jump to the moon and see what the missiles’ capabilities are, prior to making a longer jump to elude them, if necessary.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Set General Quarters,” Captain Montgomery ordered. “Man all offensive and defensive weapons systems.” He hadn’t wanted either onboard his ship, but since they were, he would be foolish not to have them ready if needed. Obviously, the aliens were playing for keeps; using the weapons was preferable to dying 24 light years from home.

  “Set General Quarters, aye,” the Damage Control Officer replied.

  “Manning all offensive systems,” the OSO added.

  “Manning all defensive systems,” the DSO said.

  “Communications Officer, I want you to begin transmitting our welcome message again as soon as we come out of warp drive,” Captain Montgomery directed. “Hopefully, there are cooler heads on the planet below…or at least they’ll listen to us since we’ll be holding their planet’s orbitals.”

  After a journey of over five years, the minutes passed quickly as the crew readied the ship for combat.

  “Coming out of warp drive…now!” the helmsman called.

  “All systems get a scan going right now,” the CO ordered.

  “No orbital stations or ships in orbit,” the OSO reported.

  “I am not getting a response from the planet,” the Comms Officer noted.

  “What do you suppose that means?” Mr. Stevenson asked.

  “That there’s no answer?” Captain Montgomery asked. “It either means they don’t understand us, they can’t reply to us, or they don’t want to talk to us.”

  “Perhaps they just aren’t motivated enough to talk to us.”

  “What are you saying?” the captain asked.

  “I’m saying that an orbital bombardment round might loosen their tongues,” Stevenson said. “Dropping something on them might show how serious we are about negotiating with them.”

  “It also might piss them off,” Captain Montgomery noted. “We can’t begin to know how they think or what they’ll do if they think they’re threatened.”

  “We’ll give them a day. If they don’t talk to us, we drop on them.”

  Arrival, Gliese 667C, Day Eight, Morning

  “Any word from the planet?” Mr. Stevenson asked.

  “No,” Captain Montgomery replied. “We haven’t heard anything from their ships, either.”

  “Time to loosen their lips.”

  “I want to go on record as strongly opposing this action. In fact, I won’t order it; if you want it done, you can do it yourself.”

  Mr. Stevenson smiled. “Very well, if you insist. OSO, drop an orbital bombardment round 10 miles to the east of any of the launch facilities you see.”

  “Drop one round 10 miles east of a launch facility, aye,” the OSO said. “Sending guidance to the round…done.” He raised the metal cage around a large, red button and pressed it. “One round on the way.”

  “Holy shit!” the DSO exclaimed. “Missile launch! I’ve got launches from all around the planet! I’m tracking five…no, six launches. There’s a seventh!”

  “Can you tell what they’re launching?” Captain Montgomery asked.

  “No sir. Most appear to be missiles of some sort, but I don’t know what’s in them.”

  Captain Montgomery turned to Mr. Stevenson. “Well, there’s your answer. They don’t like it when you throw rocks at them.”

  Mr. Stevenson shrugged. “They can’t have an unlimited supply of them. We’ll jump out of the way and let them clear, then we’ll jump back and drop another.” His face took on a look of intensity the ship’s CO hadn’t seen before. “And this one won’t be a shot across the bow; this one will be on one of their facilities. We’ll see how the bastards like that!”

  “Eight missiles inbound,” the DSO noted, his voice rising a couple of notes. “Recommend making a jump to clear them.”

  “Concur,” Montgomery said. “Helmsman, initiate the displacement drive. Jump us to the moon.”

  “Jumping!”

  The screen went dark for a little more than a second.

  “Established 250,000 miles from the planet,” the helmsman noted.

  “I doubt the missiles can reach us this far out, but keep an eye on them, DSO,” the CO said. “They may be able to go into some sort of low-thrust cruise to extend their range.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on them,” the DSO said.

  The ship rocked with a sudden impact.

  “What was that?” Captain Montgomery asked. “Did we just hit something?”

  “I don’t know,” the DSO said. “I don’t have anything on radar, and I’m not getting any new emissions from the planet.”

  “We’re hit!” the DCO reported. “Starboard quarter, aft of Frame 200. We’ve got hull perforation. Repair crews responding.”

  “Where the hell did that come from?” Captain Montgomery asked.

  “I don’t know!” the DSO replied. “I’m looking, but I don’t see anything.”

  “It’s the moon!” the OSO exclaimed. “I’ve got video…there’s some sort of…must be a rail gun. Oh, hell! There’s a whole pile of them. Get us out of here!”

  The ship rocked again and then a third time in quick succession.

  “Helm, jump us to the safe point!” Captain Montgomery ordered.

  The lights dimmed then came back to full.

  “Sir, we just lost the number one engine,” the helmsman said. “I can’t jump; there isn’t enough power!”

  “Sir, the number one engine room is open to space!” the DCO reported. “We took a round through the motor. It’s out. Engineering and damage control teams are working on it, but it’s going to be a while.”

  “Helm, full power on number two, head away from the moon at best speed.”

  “Oh shit!” the OSO exclaimed. “I’ve got missile launch from the moon. There’s at least six missiles coming our way and something that’s bigger following them…don’t know what that is, but I’m trying to get a camera on it.”

  “I have control of the lasers,” the DSO said. “10 seconds to weapons impact…firing…I got one! Two!”

  The ship rocked, far harder than it had before. Captain Montgomery was thrown from his chair as all the bridge lights went out. Everything was black.

  After two long…long seconds, the lights came back on, but dimmer, as the auxiliary generators kicked on.

  “Give me a status check!” Montgomery ordered as he climbed back into his chair. He had to shout as the communications system was out. “How long ‘til we get the main engines back online?”

  “Comms are down with Engineering,” the DCO shouted back; “I’ve got a runner headed back to get an estimate.”

  “What are our adversaries doing?”

  �
��I don’t know,” the OSO replied. “All of my systems are wired into the main bus. With the main power out, the radar and laser systems are all out, too.”

  There was a flash of light, and then darkness.

  Arrival, Gliese 667C, Day Eight, Afternoon

  “Montgomery…Captain Montgomery!” The words were muffled, as if coming to him from under water. “Wake up!” The captain felt himself being shaken, but found it hard to concentrate. He opened his eyes and found what he thought was Stevenson’s face looking at him through a piece of thick glass. There was very little light, though; he couldn’t be sure.

  Montgomery blinked his eyes as memory returned. The flash. They must have been hit again, and someone had put on his helmet.

  “Can you hear me?” Stevenson asked. Montgomery’s helmet was removed from his head. It was Stevenson. “Can you hear me now?” Stevenson asked again.

  “Yeah,” Montgomery mumbled. He couldn’t even hear himself. “Yes!” he exclaimed, louder this time. “What happened?”

  “We got hit again and lost the auxiliaries. The power’s out.”

  “Boarders!” a voice called from the hatch. “We’ve got boarders!”

  Stevenson shook him again to get his attention. “We’ve got to zeroize the logs so they can’t find Earth!” Montgomery realized they were floating. Oh yeah; no power, no artificial gravity.

  Also…no power meant he couldn’t erase the logs.

  “I can’t!” he yelled. “I need at least auxiliary power so I can boot up the computers and zeroize the logs.”

  “Can you jump it from another power source?”

  “No. We don’t have another power source. Power has to come from Engineering.”

  “Damn it!” Stevenson looked up at the hatchway, and then his eyes returned to Montgomery. “I’ll go to Engineering and get a motor back online. Somehow. You stay here and erase the logs as soon as the power comes back on. Can you do that?”

  “Yes!” Montgomery yelled back. “Hurry—they’ll take time to boot up!”

 

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