Errant Contact

by T. Michael Ford

  The Captain scowled tightly. “Yes, Admiral, I am well aware of your arrival.”

  “My ships are moving into position to blockade the planet as we speak. Therefore, your role of detaining the alien vessel is now over. We shall take it from here.”

  “Understood, Admiral, The ship has not yet completed repairs and has not departed. From what we have been able to observe, their ship shall not be ready to lift off for at least another week, give or take.”

  “Yes, I have read the reports.”

  “Admiral, if you have read the reports, I would respectfully request that you reconsider turning this into a military confrontation. I would hate to think that the annals of history would describe our first contact with an alien race as written in blood. The Quetanae, or what’s left of them, are no threat to us.”

  The human officer snorted loudly. “Kumeiga, one individual does not constitute a race. Years from now, people will look back and see this as a pivotal moment in our history. Now, we can continue to grub around in these backwater systems looking for scraps, or we can seize the day and return to Earth with technology that will propel us into the future. I will be damned if I will let this opportunity slide by for one individual. No one is that important! Now, I tire of talking to you; I have an operation to run. I am sending a destroyer over to dock with you and collect our detainees. Intelligence is itching to speak to them.”

  The Captain winced visibly. “I am afraid I have unfortunate news to report on that subject, Admiral. The crew members you requested are no longer on board.”

  “What?!”

  “We experienced some technical difficulties due to your orders to take our power cores offline. Some recently ungraded labs on board drew more power than expected, and we couldn’t sustain full operations on the single reactor we were allowed. As labs have priority, other parts of the ship sustained rolling blackouts and system failures.”

  “I don’t recall exempting any part of your ship from my orders. And I don’t see the relevance.” The officer was starting to turn red in the face.

  “I am sorry, Admiral, but we are required by government law to keep all labs with live cultures and samples powered at all times, regardless of the situation.”

  The Admiral started rubbing his temples in agitation. “And how exactly does your labs needing power lead to three escaped criminals?”

  “First off, sir, they are my crewmen, not criminals. Nor have they been formally charged with any crime or placed under arrest. Second, this is not a military-run vessel; I ask you to keep that in mind.”

  “That tidbit is foremost in my mind, I assure you, Captain. Your crew members might not have been criminals before, but they most certainly are now. Fleeing from military detainment is a crime, you know; so tell me, where are they?”

  “I cannot be absolutely certain, but during the power failures, a shuttle left the launch bay and descended to the surface.”

  “They stole a shuttle? How exactly did some science eggheads manage that?”

  “The outages damaged the launch code sequencer, essentially setting it back to the factory default of 123456. As for physically taking the shuttle? It’s not as if we have the bays guarded by armed marines like you do. I only have one three-man team of security officers, and I lost one of them to the wildlife on the planet.”

  “So you’re telling me the three of them are back down at the alien ship?”

  “Well, five of them actually; a doctor and a geology technician accompanied them.”

  “This keeps getting worse, Kumeiga! You did nothing to stop them?”

  “What exactly would you have recommended, Admiral? I was already dealing with numerous serious onboard issues from the outages. You forced us to shut down our reactors and main engines; chasing them was out of the question. And before you even suggest it, I will never fire upon my own crew, no matter the circumstance.”

  “Noted. However, if I find that you had something to do with all this, there is nothing you or your company can do that will save your ass. Do I make myself clear? Remain where you are in orbit. Redoubtable out.” The screen went blank.

  The Captain sighed heavily and looked back to us. “Well, he took that better than I expected. I hope that bought you a little time.”

  Kalaya stepped back into the picture being broadcast to the Jeff. “Captain, I was monitoring the Admiral’s face during the conversation. The little micro-flinches said volumes right up until the part where you were explaining about the shuttle. Right after that, they went away completely, as if he had reached a decision and further discussion was pointless. Captain, I’m afraid the Admiral has no intention of allowing the Geoffrey Laird to return home.”

  Kumeiga nodded sadly. “Captain Kalaya, I’d like to think that over 40 years in this chair, dealing with all types of people, have given me some insight into the hearts of men. At this moment, I would have to concur with your assessment. Well, you have a ship to defend, as do I…”

  Laree stood up from her chair and saluted the old man. “Thank you, Captain, for everything!”

  “You’re welcome. All of you, stay safe out there and make me proud. I want to see you all again once this is over.” He stood up and followed with a salute of his own. “Geoffrey Laird out.”

  Chapter 22

  Laree

  It was a solemn group of humans that marched quietly to the Aurora’s bridge at the front of the ship. Kalaya had simply vanished after the conference with Captain Kumeiga. Kodo had remained a few seconds longer to give us the option of staying in our rooms, lounging about in the VIP mess, or coming up to the bridge to watch. Given the gravity of the situation, it was unsurprising that we all elected to watch the day’s events unfold from the seat of power, the Aurora’s bridge.

  Just like we were at first, Hannah and Elleen were starstruck by the bridge and the vistas from the viewing ports. After a few minutes of silent gawking, they retreated quietly to the auxiliary seating at the back of the bridge and silently watched. Max just paced quietly at the back of the room. Kalaya, or more appropriately her hologram, occupied the command chair while Kodo was perched at the science/sensors station off to one side. Kalaya was paging furiously through screen after screen of ships status reports while Kodo typed away and studied the flood of tactical information that was pouring in. I slipped into what should have been the navigator’s station next to Kodo and waited. I looked over the console in front of me. Everything was marked in the twisted scrawls that I had come to recognize as the Quetanae written language so I would be worthless as bridge crew.

  “Relax, Laree,” Kodo whispered. “No one is going to ask you to plot a course through the Mutarah Nebula or anything. But now that everyone has gotten a look around, it is time to button up.” He brushed across one of the screens that he had conjured up, and the clear pristine windows became obscured by heavy armor plating. As soon as the last trace of outside light had been extinguished, the walls lit up with displays of technical data and numerous live images of the fleet from space beyond where the Jeff orbited. “Nicely done, Kalaya; those observation drones you launched yesterday are in precisely the right spots. We should be able to monitor the actions of our fleet friends nicely.”

  She stopped what she was doing for a few seconds and beamed at the compliment. For his part, Kodo remained glued to the screen in front of him, but I saw the corner of his mouth bend up just slightly. I sighed and fixed my attention on the screens. Sure enough, there were tagged representations of nearly every fleet ship, which showed readiness, distance, and activity levels. The bulk of the ships were in orbit, closely tracking around the backside of the planet away from us. I watched as three icons broke off from the main group and took up stations above the Aurora’s projected flight path, which was shown as a translucent, dotted red line across the tactical display. A glance at the deep space camera showed two destroyers and a cruiser hovering ominously above the Jeff’s position. The sub-screens below each icon gave the name and age of each ship. All o
f them were relatively new and armed to the teeth.

  All the other ships, including the support vessels, were hidden behind the planet. Wait a minute; she had a camera for that as well, and I could plainly see the ships on another screen farther down the main wall.

  It was easy to pick out the Admiral’s flagship, the Redoubtable, as it was the biggest and gaudiest-looking battle cruiser in the group. I noted uneasily that several of the smaller craft seemed to be moving closer to the atmosphere.

  “We have three ships attempting to block our departure corridor. What can you tell me about them?” Kalaya asked softly, but it was clear that she was talking to Kodo.

  “It is confirmed; two destroyers and one heavy cruiser in a tight formation. A lot of human firepower, almost twelve percent of their offensive strength. Kittson must be feeling confident,” Kodo intoned without looking up as if preoccupied. “I wouldn’t count them as much of a threat. Weapons are old style kinetic rail guns, crude but effective.” I looked over his shoulder as he examined blueprints and design specifications for each of the vessels. “They probably have some nuclear-tipped missiles available as well. Hull plating is painfully thin for actual combat, power plants are laughable, and I would rate their shields as good for nothing more than moderate space debris.”

  “So, harmless then?” asked Max.

  “Not entirely. The Aurora isn’t a warship; our armor is thin as well. It would probably stand up to random fire, but if multiple ships concentrated their fire on a single location, it could disable us, depending on whether or not they knew where to target, or they just got lucky. Obviously, our engines would be recognizable by anyone with an ounce of spacefaring experience, even if they’ve never seen that configuration before. I would also remind everyone that our own shields are worthless with us on the ground as we are. I believe you would describe the situation as sitting ducks.”

  “Worthless?” I sputtered, becoming concerned. “How so?”

  “Our shields project a particle-based ‘balloon’ around the ship with a few hundred yards of distance between the shield boundary and the hull plating. This method cuts way down on the number of emitters we require, plus it isolates occurrences like large debris field strikes or nuclear weapon blasts far enough away to render them harmless. The downside of this style of shields is that, if we turned them on while on the planet surface, they would attempt to repulse the ground beneath us and raise the ship off the ground.”

  “Well, we are trying to get off the ground, aren’t we?” Max chimed in.

  “Yes, but with some measure of control. Our balloon would be unstable and probably end up rolling us down the hill and into the forest. We could end up in an unnatural position, like a turtle on its back, and not be able to take off at all.”

  “Ok, massive ship rolling down a hill would be bad, although really funny!” I cackled nervously, earning me suspicious looks from both Kalaya and Kodo. “Ok, ok, it would just be bad and not funny whatsoever.”

  “Better,” Kalaya affirmed, returning to her work. “Might I recommend that everyone take a seat and buckle in; things are about to get interesting. Unfriendly forces are approaching landfall just over the horizon in several locations.”

  I buckled myself in and watched. It appeared that Kalaya was making another call. I expected to see the familiar bridge of the Jeff, but instead we were greeted by the ugly, smug face of the Admiral.

  “What do you want now, Kumeiga?”

  “Pardon me, but not Captain Kumeiga; I am merely bouncing this transmission off the Geoffrey Laird because I wasn’t sure you would accept my call,” Kalaya said smoothly. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Captain Kalaya of the Quetanae Federation flagged vessel Aurora, the starship that you seem so hell-bent on illegally capturing.”

  “Yes…” he growled, clearly trying to hide his surprise and anger at our call. “I have read about you in several reports. By now, you must be aware that my fleet has surrounded this planet and cut off any avenue of retreat for you. Are you ready to surrender?”

  “Hardly,” she replied coolly. “I am merely calling to formally identify myself and my ship in accordance with Quetanae contact protocols. That is step one; step two is to formally ask that you stand down your forces and allow the Aurora to proceed on its way unmolested as any civilized spacefaring race would do. Ignoring this request would place you in violation of common law treaties ubiquitous to this arm of the galaxy and could result in placing your race on a list of known pirate-sponsoring races. I already have FTL message drones poised on the outskirts of this system ready to alert known civilization centers of the other significant races in this regard.”

  “You’re bluffing,” Kittson sputtered angrily. “I know about you. You’re not even a real person; you’re just some fancy computer program.”

  I heard Kodo mutter something under his breath that sounded angry.

  “I ask you a second time, Admiral. Will you let the Aurora depart untouched?” Kalaya pressed. “I am giving you one last chance to remove your ships and the landing parties on the far side of the planet.”

  “You are threatening me? In case your circuitry is misfiring, let me point out that I have an entire fleet at my disposal and you just have that old derelict piece of scrap! The answer is, hell no!”

  Kalaya smiled as if indulging a toddler. “Admiral, I strongly urge you to reconsider. I can assure you that your race has never encountered a being like me. Don’t let this blonde hair, stunning face, and perfect body fool you into thinking we are somehow equals. Step three will be painful, both personally and professionally, I assure you. Step four? Well…”

  The Admiral’s visage grew even uglier as he mashed down a button on the arm of his command chair. “This is what I think of your empty threats! Strike Commanders, start the assault!”

  “Very well, then,” Kalaya mused. “Step three initiated. Let’s begin by sharing a little personal information. You already claim to know everything about me, as I am only a fancy computer program, so that leaves you. I find it cute when you humans think you have the world locked up with your fanciful 3072-bit encryption programs. You’re so in awe of them that you don’t even bother to use hidden bank accounts, or route the transactions through multiple jurisdictions. Nope, nothing can breach the walls of the castle you’ve built around your financial information.”

  “Is there a point to all this?” he growled uneasily.

  “Very much so; here is the point. Every one of your officers across the fleet, right down to lieutenant class is at this moment receiving a file in their personal data pads. This decoded file lists all the kickbacks you have received from numerous defense contractors to supply substandard materials and equipment to your own fleet. Names, dates, cargo manifests, and most importantly, the certified payments delivered into your personal accounts by shady contractors. I even included the receipts showing how much your wife spends just on shoes every year. Shockingly, it’s quite a bit more than the yearly salary of the navigation officer at the console to your left…actually, it’s more than the annual salary of your entire bridge crew; imagine that! What a lucky girl!

  “Call me naive, Admiral, but I have to think at least some of those officers are going to be a bit put off by your little side business and excesses. Especially when it is their lives on the line by using that same cut-rate equipment. To save any of your loyal crew the embarrassment of having to turn this information over to your superiors, I’ve taken the liberty of sending a high-speed FTL drone back to Earth. Once in orbit around the planet, it will transmit a video of our discussion thus far, including my request for you to allow us to leave in peace. It will also relay all the gory details of your financial transactions to the proper authorities for review. Once it has transmitted the information, it will redirect itself into Sol and self-destruct.”

  A voice in the background murmured, “Admiral, the sensors just recorded a small object leaving the system at an incredibly high speed.”

  “Prep
osterous!” Kittson raged.

  “That is just the beginning, Admiral,” Kalaya purred. “Our little discussion has allowed me time to position my defenses for a small demonstration. Don’t say I didn’t warn you…”

  I watched in rapt horror as the heavy cladding slid aside from the windows on both sides of the bridge, revealing that two of the behemoth guns had moved forward into position alongside us. Apparently, a camera from the bridge relayed the view we were seeing to the Admiral as his eyes bulged slightly at the scene. I will admit they were impressive as hell, each mounted on six gigantic tracked hulls stolen from the wyvern units. They ground the earth beneath them to a fine dust. Almost immediately, the massive tube system on the top of the artillery piece began to rise and align ominously.

  “Admiral, the cruiser Champlain, deployed near the Geoffrey Laird, is reporting massive energy spikes on the planet surface,” a voice advised from somewhere behind Kittson.

  “Kalaya, are you seriously going to use those monsters?” I stammered, still unable to wrench my gaze away from the war machines.

  My friend nodded grimly. “Yes, Laree; he leaves me no choice. But remember, this is still step three. Fire!”

  Envision the loudest crack of thunder imaginable multiplied times ten. I nearly toppled off my chair; the only thing holding me in place was the belted restraints. The sound and pressure made my head feel like it was going to explode. A flash of sickly green light permeated the bridge from outside, probably filtered a thousand-fold by the tinted viewing glass. Still, it was almost enough to make me lose my breakfast. Outside, the four gun platforms rocked back into their original positions and silence descended on the bridge.

  “What the hell was that? Some kind of projectile?” Max shouted as he pointed at the screen displaying the Jeff and the array of warships slightly farther out. Four sharp, silvery spires shot up out of the atmosphere and blew past the Geoffrey Laird on both sides of the research vessel. Abruptly, the nosecone on each spire detached and accelerated from the main body, bracketing the human destroyers and cruiser. The slower back half of the missile continued forward unguided but still approached the human ships. Coming abreast of the main body of warships, the nosecones flared brightly, and multiple successions of smaller staged micro-flares shot forth, then winked out of existence.