by Tori Harris
A Pyrrhic victory at best, he thought darkly. How are we now to defeat another Guardian spacecraft, this time escorted by an Envoy-class — most likely a much more powerful warship — without getting all of us … and I do mean all of us … killed in the process?
“It has occurred to me on more than one occasion that there surely must be something about us — biologicals, that is — that sets us apart from the machines, regardless of how sophisticated they may be,” Admiral Naftur said. “I have never, for example, seen them attempt a ruse de guerre of the type you just employed against the Yumaran Guardian.” Although he had not spoken for several minutes, the Wek officer’s voice had taken on a more optimistic tone, as if sensing his Human colleague might be in need of a distraction from his own thoughts.
“I certainly hope so. It might be difficult to make a compelling argument for our continued existence otherwise,” Patterson replied. “Are you suggesting, though, that our natural tendency towards deceit might be what differentiates us? That would be a sad state of affairs, would it not?”
“Deceit is an example of what I had in mind, but I was thinking more along the lines of our imaginations … our ability to conceptualize that which does not currently exist, and then bring it into being.”
“Our creativity, in other words.”
“Just so.”
“And you believe this is something the so-called synthetic life forms lack?”
“Oh, I believe they have some semblance of it, yes. But let us consider the Pelaran AI starbase as an example. Commander Reynolds and others observed how foolish it seemed to place such importance on a single structure, regardless of how well-defended it might be.”
“As Captain Prescott just demonstrated.”
“That he did. And if Human or Wek engineers had built such a mission-critical, yet vulnerable structure … which was then destroyed with relative ease by our enemies —”
“You’re right. We would refer to that as a ‘failure of imagination,’ wouldn’t we? You may be on to something there.”
Naftur nodded slowly in reply. “Admiral Patterson, you must not allow yourself to believe it was mere chance that allowed you to successfully plan for the destruction of the Yumaran Guardian. You took advantage of your experience, the resources at your disposal, and your natural creativity to bring about the conditions required for that success. You can do so again. Indeed, you must do so again.”
“New contact, Admiral,” the nearest tactical officer called out once again. “The Ethereal’s back with us, sir.”
“As if we needed something else to worry about,” Patterson said, removing his glasses and giving them a quick once-over with a handkerchief. “Fletcher?” he called over his shoulder.
“Yes, Admiral. Rick is already calling for you and Admiral Naftur, sir.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“View screen four again, sir.”
Before the two flag officers could turn to face the screen, the grey-skinned alien had already appeared, his largely impassive face somehow managing to look more subdued than usual.
“Hello again, Admirals,” Rick began. “First, I wanted to congratulate you both for the destruction of the Yumaran GCS unit. The Pelaran Guardians are quite dangerous, as you are well aware. Had it not been for your combined skills, I can assure you it was fully capable of destroying both of your combined fleets, not to mention razing both of your homeworlds for good measure.”
“Thank you, Rick. We continue to appreciate the assistance you have provided,” Patterson replied politely. “But unless you have something else for us …”
“Yes, of course,” the Grey continued. “I realize both of you are heavily engaged in preparing for the Envoy’s return. If it’s any consolation, assuming you find a way to destroy Tahiri and his accompanying Guardian, Miguel does not expect any additional Pelaran ships to openly attack your forces. In theory, at least, they are not authorized to engage in combat operations beyond the scope of their most recent orders from the Alliance AI.”
“Which won’t be issuing any more orders,” Patterson added with a satisfied smile. “I suppose there is some comfort in that. But if our own Guardian has taught us nothing else, it’s that, under the right circumstances, they are capable of expanding their own horizons. And just as it is with us Humans, their development process can produce wholly unexpected results.”
“Very true, Admiral, which brings me back to my previous comment regarding your combined skills. I hope the experience of fighting and winning yet another battle together has made an indelible impression on you both. I have told you how critical we believe the association between the Wek and Terran civilizations will become. Only through these kinds of shared experiences will your relationship be allowed to develop to its full potential, and encouraging that development is a key part of our mission here.”
Unsure where Rick was going with this line of thought, let alone why it was important enough to discuss at this particular moment, Patterson and Naftur glanced at one another awkwardly.
“Yes, I know … it’s a little embarrassing, isn’t it? Kind of like being set up for a blind date by your parents or something,” Rick continued, then paused for a quick, squeaking chuckle. “You’re just going to have to trust me when I tell you we’ve done this kind of thing successfully on many occasions. It turns out there really is no substitute for real-world demonstrations of how important two worlds can become to one another. So, with apologies to you both, it’s now time for the next phase of this exercise. Admiral Naftur, take a deep breath, please, and just try to relax.”
Before either officer had the opportunity to object, the Navajo’s CIC was briefly lit by a flash of intense light centered on where the Wek admiral had been standing. By the time Patterson’s vision had cleared enough to focus on the view screen once more, Rick could be seen attempting to steady the relatively huge Admiral Naftur on the Ethereal’s bridge.
“We’ll see you again shortly, Admiral Patterson,” Rick called out, just before the screen went blank.
“The Ethereal has transitioned to hyperspace, Admiral,” the tactical officer reported from his nearby console.
“Well … damn,” Patterson said, still staring at the screen and shaking his head resignedly.
TFS Fugitive
(Pelara - 5 km from the FAM-4 facility)
“Okay, let me make sure I understand what we’re about to try,” Lieutenant Commander Logan began, standing with his arms folded next to Commander Reynolds’ console. “Doctor Creel, you’re saying this thing is the old Pelaran navy’s equivalent to an orbital shipyard slash maintenance facility.”
“Yes, that’s one way of putting it. Facilities like this one handled virtually every facet of constructing and maintaining the Pelaran fleet. Back in the days before advanced gravitic systems came into widespread use, it was far more efficient to conduct most of our starship production and servicing tasks off-world.”
“Sure, I get that. I’m guessing space-based construction is pretty well standard among early spacefaring civilizations. But why go to the trouble of continuing to do it out here once gravity is no longer an issue? It seems a little inefficient to me.”
“I believe there was quite a bit of debate on that subject at the time. The biggest argument against planet-side construction was probably environmental-related impacts, since we had gotten pretty good at managing waste products on-orbit. Honestly, though, I think the bottom line is we continued to do it this way because we had always done it this way. In addition, once our ships commonly exceeded a kilometer in length, I don’t think most people were all that keen on the idea of having them commonly landing on the surface. It’s also tough to find enough real estate to build such huge facilities on the ground, but there’s still plenty of room out here.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I’m guessing they were reasonably easy to build too.”
“Let’s move this along, Commander,” Prescott prompted. “If we’re doing this, n
ow’s the time. Otherwise, we need to be on our way home.”
“Sorry, Captain. So, first of all, Doctor Creel, you believe the facility is still fully functional?”
“Yes, it is. Tess confirmed that to be the case when she interfaced with the facility AI. In fact, it’s still used on occasion for Guardian and Envoy spacecraft maintenance, although no new ones have been constructed for some time.”
“Right, but we’re obviously not a vessel the facility AI has dealt with before. What makes you think it will be, uh … compatible, I guess, with our technology?”
“I only know what I have read, Commander, so I’m afraid I can’t provide much in the way of specifics regarding how it all works. I do know, however, that other Pelaran Alliance worlds frequently brought their ships in for various repairs and maintenance. So here’s my tremendously oversimplified version of what happens: the facility AI interfaces with the ship’s AI, performs a variety of scans to determine how things are constructed and what needs to be fixed, and then the required parts get fabricated and installed.”
“Any idea how long all of that takes?”
“I’m sure it varies based on the complexity of the repairs, but my understanding is that most routine battle damage can be repaired very quickly.”
“Are we talking days? Hours?”
“Minutes. The fabrication systems are capable of rebuilding highly complex assemblies on the fly. Some pieces are actually built up in place on the ship itself while others are manufactured separately and then attached at the appropriate time. The footage I’ve seen is impressive to say the least.”
“So what’s the problem, Cheng? It sounds simple enough to me,” Reynolds asked facetiously.
Logan paused, shooting the XO an annoyed, sidelong glance while he considered whether any of the myriad questions he could ask would actually help the captain with his decision.
“Look, here’s the thing, Captain, there’s not much point in my asking a bunch of technical questions here. No one here knows the answers, and even if they did, I doubt any of us would understand them anyway. We’re talking about technology that is significantly more advanced than ours, right? So I think I can boil my concerns down to two … actually three.”
“Fair enough. Let’s hear it.”
“I’m stating the obvious here, but my first concern is the potential danger to the crew. I don’t think I need to say any more about that. Second is the danger to the ship. Even damaged, we’re better off heading back to Earth and doing what we can to help than if we end up getting ourselves in a situation where we are unable to do so. Lastly, we’re talking about a huge security breach here, aren’t we? Assuming Doctor Creel is correct — and if he isn’t, the facility probably won’t be much use to us anyway — that thing is going to learn all there is to know about our ship during the repair process. Just because it utilizes technology more advanced than our own doesn’t mean it already has access to all of our technology, if that makes sense.”
“Yes, it does. Anything else?”
“No, sir. That’s about it. I guess it really comes down to a judgment call, doesn’t it? Without question, getting our LO systems back online would make us much more useful in a fight against a Guardian or an Envoy-class ship.”
Prescott nodded slowly, struggling to weigh the pros and cons of making such a risky decision. His chief engineer was right, of course. This was a judgment call — his judgment call, and his alone — and unquestionably the kind of gamble leading inexorably to triumph if successful, ruin if not.
“Captain Griffin, are you still monitoring?”
“Of course, Captain.”
“Is there anything you and Tess can do to somehow purge whatever data the facility AI collects about our ship before we depart?”
“We can certainly try. At one time, there were security protocols in place to protect proprietary systems aboard allied vessels from being compromised. As with all such things, however, there’s no way to be absolutely sure without destroying the station on the way out. And even that may not be enough. If I may, though, this seems like the kind of thing our friend Miguel might be willing to assist us with at some point.”
“He might at that. Thank you all for your inputs, but here’s the bottom line from my perspective. Fugitive is currently the only ship in our inventory with a real, demonstrated advantage over the Pelaran vessels. But if we head back in the shape we’re in right now, we’re probably no more useful to Admiral Patterson than an additional frigate — perhaps even less so. In my opinion, we have to give this a try.”
Out of curiosity, Prescott glanced in turn at Creel, Reynolds, and Logan to see if their expressions might give away any misgivings they had regarding his decision. Surprisingly, all three had the look of having already moved on, as if the decision had been clear, even obvious, to everyone but him.
“Ensign Fisher, take us in, please,” he ordered, suddenly recalling a painting he had once seen of Confederate General Robert E. Lee during the U.S. Civil War. In spite of being surrounded by over fifty thousand troops under his command, the painting, entitled The Loneliness of Command, depicted Lee sitting alone outside his tent with a remote, desolate expression on his careworn face.
SCS Gresav, In Hyperspace
(54.2 light years from the Herrera Mining Facility)
“Captain Jelani, we are being hailed again, sir,” the Gresav’s communications officer reported from his workstation. “I believe it is the same … creature, who contacted us before regarding the Crown Prince’s disappearance. He continues to refer to himself as … ‘Rick,’ sir.”
“Eton Ulto,” the flag captain swore under his breath. “What does he say he wants now?”
“He says he has Prince Naftur aboard again and would like to return him to us. He says he can do so without requiring us to transition back into normal space, but he would prefer not to do so for safety reasons.”
“How did he manage to … never mind. Tell him we will be happy to stop if he will prove to us the Crown Prince is aboard.”
Moments later, a window containing both the inscrutable Grey alien and Prince Naftur appeared on the bridge display screen.
“It is good to see you again, Captain Jelani,” Naftur greeted wearily.
“And you as well, Prince Naftur. Are you injured, sir? Have they mistreated you?”
“No, no, Musa,” Naftur replied, raising his hand in a soothing gesture. “I am perfectly fine. Although I will tell you the effects of the … matter transference system our friends here possess are somewhat … fatiguing to say the least. Rather than experience them again so soon, I would appreciate your sending one of our drop ships over to retrieve me.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Jelani replied, nodding to an officer located off-screen.
“Thank you, Captain. You and I have much to discuss and very little time in which to do so.”
“Of that, I have no doubt, sir. When they contacted us after your disappearance, I had a difficult time believing you were actually back in the Sol system.”
“I had a difficult time with that as well,” Naftur said with a wan smile. “But I can assure you that is exactly where I have been … and where we must all now return.”
“I am afraid I do not understand, sir.”
“Nor do I, my friend … at least not entirely. What I can tell you is that our Terran friends are in grave danger. Two powerful warships from what we have always referred to as the Pelaran Alliance will attack their fleet in less than two hours. I fear they may not prevail without our assistance. And regardless of any misgivings some of us may have regarding the Humans, if they are destroyed, we will undoubtedly be the Pelarans’ next target.”
“But, Admiral, how can we —”
“All I can tell you at the moment is that Rick’s ship, the Ethereal, has capabilities the likes of which we have barely begun to imagine. He believes she is capable of transporting the Gresav back to the Sol system in a single, instantaneous hyperspace transition.”
>
“But …” Jelani began.
“Look, Captain, I know this sounds a little far-fetched from your perspective,” Rick interrupted, “but I can assure you it’s nothing more than technology that’s a little more advanced —”
“A lot more advanced,” Miguel interjected flatly in the background.
“Never mind him,” Rick continued, shaking his head. “He’s an engineer … and there are a number of very good reasons why they rarely make the best diplomats. As I was saying, we simply have access to more advanced technology than you do. I’m sure you have encountered plenty of civilizations who consider your ship’s capabilities nothing short of miraculous, right?”
Captain Jelani’s fierce, piercing gaze provided no indication whatsoever that he agreed with anything Rick had said thus far.
“Right,” Rick concluded on the Wek’s behalf. “In that case, you’re just going to have to trust us on this one … as I believe your Admiral Naftur now does.”
“I do not believe I would refer to our current relationship as one of trust,” Naftur said, “but I have seen enough to be convinced that you can and will do as you say.”
“And that’s what we like to refer to as ‘good enough,’” Rick replied with a squeaky chuckle. “So, getting back to the matter at hand, the Gresav’s size is very close to the upper limit of what we can enclose within our hyperdrive field. That means we will have to very carefully position the two ships relative to one another. Unfortunately, it’s also going to take some additional time for us to store sufficient power for the jump.”
“How much time?” Naftur asked.
Rick blinked his huge, dark eyes as he received the required information from Ethereal’s AI.
“If we hurry, I believe we will still arrive in the Sol system before the Envoy’s ship.”
“Then, clearly, there is not a moment to be lost.”
Chapter 21
