by T. R. Harris
The link with Eilsion would be in real-time, a fairly recent improvement over the old method of communicating across interstellar distances. Although not universally available throughout the Kracori forces, this kind of link was made possible through a sustained-wormhole technique perfected by the Klin. Unlike traditional communication wormholes, which only existed for mere moments, shuttling communications from one relay station to the next, this improved method allowed for direct wormhole contact between certain ships and land-based stations. Consuming an incredible amount of energy, these links could only stay open for up to an hour or so at a time. After that, the warping of space had to be allowed to return to normal, as well as energy supplies recharged. Still, an hour of instantaneous communication across thousands of light years was very impressive.
Jonnif entered the specialized communication chamber aboard his flagship, which still sat on the landing field atop the Kacoran Plain on Juir. The actual comm transmitter was located in orbit around the planet, yet close enough that the millisecond delay would still appear instantaneous. He slipped into the seat in front of the large viewing screen and motioned for Mininof to establish the link. He could avoid it no longer — in fact, the longer he delayed the link the more catastrophic could be the results.
The aged face of Daninf Kicon appeared on the screen. The Langril had received a traditional link two hours before informing him of the incoming link from Juir. Daninf was in the executive suite of the Council, and in the background, Jonnif could see four other Council members, including Fennork and Becinnof, two of the most powerful — besides Daninf.
“Greetings Jonnif Vinn, what news do you have of Juir that would require such a link.” The Langril’s voice was jovial, almost bouncy, and Jonnif could see the other Council members in the background chugging mugs of intoxicants and cavorting joyfully.
Jonnif took a deep breath and began. “First item, I acquired the Juirean Elder Hydon. I have placed him on a ship which departed Juir for Eilsion last night, local time.”
“Yes, Jonnif, we are aware of Hydon’s capture — and alive. This is a great accomplishment. You are to be congratulated. Your legend will now be greatly enhanced.”
They already know! How can this be? Jonnif was furious. Only he was authorized to speak directly with the Council and Eilsion. But somehow they had been informed, stealing away the one bit of good news that could dampen the effects of the rest of the report he was obligated to make. He gritted his teeth and made a mental note to task Mininof with finding the person who had informed the Council — unless it had been Mininof himself….
“Are you also aware that the being that brought Hydon to us was a Human?”
This caused Daninf to lean in closer to the screen, now paying slightly more attention to the conversation than before. “This I was not. I did not even know there were any Humans on Juir.”
“Neither did I. But they apparently had come to some cooperative agreement just before our attack.”
Two of the other Council members had heard the conversation and now approached the screen to listen. “Prior to our current operation,” Daninf said, “an alliance between the Juireans and the Humans would have been very bad news. Not so much now. Even still, the event is interesting. Is that the extent of your report?”
“No, my Ludif. The Human who brought us Hydon also turned over a group of his fellow beings to us as prisoners, including one called Adam Cain.”
Daninf’s eyes grew larger. “I know this name; I know very few Human names, but this one I do. He is a warrior of some note who has been disrupting Juirean operations near the Fringe, at least up until a few months ago.”
“Correct, my Ludif. The other Human — Ni-Gel McCarthy he is called — turned over Adam Cain and the other members of his team. Ni-Gel McCarthy was the lead Human advisor to the Klin on Marishal until — until the Klin no longer needed him.” Jonnif saw Daninf smile, knowing he was fully aware of the betrayal the Klin had perpetrated on the Humans. “He has offered his services to us in exchange for safety from his fellow Humans and from the Klin, as well as for monetary gain, of course. He is currently in transit on the ship bringing Hydon to you.”
“Credits, of course; I would expect nothing less from Humans. We will welcome him, even though his usefulness to us will not last long.” Daninf looked hard at the screen and frowned. “But I sense there is more you wish to report, news not as welcome.”
“Yes, Daninf. With these being our first Human prisoners, I took it upon myself to test these creatures to help verify some of the information circulating regarding them. I tested Adam Cain last night in the arena.”
Daninf smiled. “I can see from the marks upon your face that the Human provided ample entertainment?”
“He was indeed a worthy opponent. The rumors we’ve heard about their fighting skills are justified, even if they do fight in unorthodox ways. However, during the test, I did reveal to Adam Cain the Kracori plans to strike his homeworld with nuclear devices. I did this to provide psychological torture in addition to the physical contest we were engaged in.”
“I see no harm in that. I take it the Human was sufficiently affected by this news?”
“Yes, my Ludif.”
“But still something is bothering you, Jonnif.”
“There is: I regret to inform you that Adam Cain was not killed in the arena, and that he and the other Human prisoners escaped from my captivity this past evening.”
Daninf was silent for a long moment, his eyes boring directly into those of Jonnif’s from twelve-thousand lights away. All the other Council members had now gathered around the monitor. They were no longer drinking and cavorting.
“Jonnif, tell me he is still on Juir, and that’s just a matter of you locating him.”
“I’m afraid I cannot, my Ludif. He and the others commandeered a starship last night and escaped the planet. We have been unable to locate him as of this time.”
Daninf was silent for another long moment, while several of the other Council members began to shout questions and comments at both Jonnif and the Langril. Finally Daninf raised his hand.
“Silence all of you! Jonnif, does he have the capability of contacting his planet?”
“Not with the vessel he acquired — yet he can contact his fleet.”
Jonnif saw Daninf turn a ghostly white as the blood drained from his head. When Daninf spoke again each word was like a dagger. “Need I remind you, Jonnif, just how damaging this action could be if he does make contact. It was upon your recommendation that the Kracori made the current move upon Juir. If there had been any possibility of the Human fleet arriving in the Alliance Cluster, we would have delayed our assault until we further assessed the Humans’ intentions. This diversion attack on Earth was the deciding factor in favor of the invasion. Without the strong possibility of the Humans breaking off their arrival at Juir, the Council would have never agreed to the invasion.”
“Is there a possibility of moving up the attack on Earth? If we attack now, then what Adam Cain can or can’t do will have no relevance.”
“The strike force is on final approach to Earth and are under communications lockdown. We will attempt, but it is something we cannot rely on.”
Daninf seemed to gather his thoughts, even though Jonnif could see a slight trembling of his head every time he moved. “Jonnif, you realize that to have first taken Juir, and then be forced to retreat, will result in even a greater loss of legend than if we never attempted the invasion in the first place? There is no shame in waiting for the most opportune time to strike a target. Yet you knew the Human fleet was coming, and you still insisted on carrying out this plan, even knowing the risks. If the Kracori are forced to retreat, we may never fully recover from the humiliation, and after only recently revealing ourselves to the Expansion. We have no established legend with them, something that might be able to withstand such devastation. Only eradicating the Humans from the galaxy would ever salvage the Kracori legend — if even then — and
we are in no position to attempt such a feat at this time if the attack upon Earth fails.”
“My Ludif, the attack may still be successful. We are assuming that Adam Cain can contact his fleet, and then that the forces on Earth can stop the strike. All that we speak of here may not come to be. We can still prevail.”
Daninf looked from side to side at the other Council members, each nodding in silent agreement. “Jonnif, we will await the final outcome of the attack on Earth; we do not wish to disrupt the command structure within your forces at this time. However, no matter the final outcome of the attack, you will be relieved of your command and recalled to Eilsion. If the attack is a success, you will be allowed to retire to a non-strategic life with no loss of public legend. If it fails, then unfortunately you will be made the face of this failure and your legend will be destroyed as probably none have before it.”
“My Ludif, and other Council members, I fully accept my fate. I would expect nothing less. My first error may have been forgiven had I maintained control of Adam Cain. Compounding my first with my second error — in allowing him to escape — is inexcusable.”
“Excuses are one thing, Jonnif, as are apologies. Catastrophes are another. We must all hope now that the attack on Earth succeeds. If it doesn’t, it is not only your legend which will be destroyed, but also that of the entire Kracori.”
Chapter 25
For Petty Officer First Class (RM1) Caleb Cobb, the thrill of space travel had lost its luster about nine months ago. Unlike all the wild fantasies about space travel that had danced through his head prior to volunteering for the Human Revenge Fleet, Caleb had yet to see any extraterrestrials in the flesh or set foot upon a single exotic alien world. Instead he’d spent the past year cloistered aboard only one starship, the Bunker Hill, the command ship of the fleet. Although the accommodations aboard the craft were better than any he’d ever experienced during his sixteen years in the U.S. Navy, after all this time Caleb Cobb was going stir-crazy. And they still had a very long, open-ended mission ahead of them.
His only diversion came from the fact that he was one of the many bachelors aboard the ship, which also carried its fair share of single female crewmembers, and these women were just as restless as he. In addition, crews from the smaller KFV’s would constantly rotate through the much larger KFV-D, placing their ships within the massive landing bay for week-long stays at a time. This added to the variety of people Caleb met, but by now he’d already scoped out most of the decent possibilities, so even this activity was growing monotonous.
Although Caleb Cobb was never lonely, he was still bored beyond belief.
During the nearly year-long deployment, Caleb had not even seen any real fighting action, except for the brief battle off Falor-Kapel. Of the fifteen hundred ships of the fleet only the KFV-A’s and B’s had seen most of action — and that had only come in brief spurts weeks apart.
Caleb did his best to rationalize the situation, realizing that even if the crews could be granted liberty somewhere, it would be on an alien world completely new to Humanity. Without extensive and time-consuming surveys, covering the full range of scientific, medical and security considerations, no landfall would be coming anytime soon.
Except maybe on Juir.
Caleb knew the capital planet of the Juirean Expansion was their final destination, and even then they were still almost three months out, and once arriving in an area called the Alliance Cluster, they would undoubtedly encounter the most ferocious battle to date. Landing upon the surface of Juir after such a battle would hardly be considered liberty.
Still, at this point Caleb Cobb would welcome any chance to step upon a surface of something other than metal.
And now these cryptic and confusing reports had begun to filter in from all around them. Caleb was a Radioman, specifically a Broadcast Operator aboard the flagship. It was his job to log all incoming and outgoing communications for the fleet. With the arrival of the Klin and all their advanced comm technology, nearly everything he had learned during his Navy career had gone out the window. Now he dealt with links and wormhole relays and transit times. He hadn’t had time to learn how all this new technology worked before they deployed; all he knew for sure was that it did.
His position aboard the flagship also gave him a unique insight into the thinking of the top brass, both here and back on Earth. He saw nearly every message exchanged between the two locations and so had a fairly good feel for how things were going.
The fleet had left Falor-Kapel and entered a major deep-well transit route that the Klin spies — the Saviors — had provided them. Once the Saviors had been revealed for what they really were, many of them had been given a choice: life in prison for espionage, or join the Fleet and provide all assistance possible. Many of the off-world-born Humans had quickly converted. Caleb knew two of these men — now called Second-Generation Humans or simply 2G’s. They were really nice guys, yet very desperate to be accepted by their heretical brothers and sisters.
Command had gone out of their way to explain who the 2G’s were and how they had been born and raised off-planet, while constantly being fed propaganda about the native Humans by the Klin. The transition went smooth enough for most; what conflicts there were usually came from a small minority of the native Human population of the fleet toward the 2G’s, rather than the other way around.
The route they followed to Juir took them just above the galactic plane and into an area deemed optimal for deep-well transit. It was also a route frequented by most of the other long-distance travelers in the galaxy. Yet as the gigantic Human fleet made its way inexorably toward Juir, most of this other interstellar traffic wisely chose to move out of the way.
The Human fleet was the largest concentration of warships in the galaxy since the Juirean Mass over thirty-five hundred years before, even though that fact was not totally accurate. The Mass had consisted of over ten-thousand starships, but when it spread out from Juir, it went off in all directions, assimilating thousands of worlds into the new Juirean Empire at the time. But with that much space to cover, individual units of Juirean warships never numbered much more than twenty or thirty in an area. The Human Fleet consisted of just over fifteen hundred starships, all in one concentration, and now still spread out along the deep-well route for over half a light year. To the untrained eye, half a light year would seem like a vast distance to arrange fifteen hundred starships. Yet at deep-well velocities, the concentration of ships appeared as one brilliant, oblong blob of white-hot energy, ripping nearby space into concentric waves of warped and contorted space.
The approaching Human fleet was impossible to miss.
The cryptic messages had begun about a week ago. They came in across all comm bands and mainly from the direction in which the fleet was headed — from the Alliance Cluster. Universal translation bugs made every message decipherable, and they all spoke about an attack within the Cluster, possibly even of Juir herself.
At first, the intel guys believed the messages to be a ruse, an effort to convince the advancing Humans that Juir had already been destroyed and therefore not worth the trip. But then the sheer number and variety of the messages convinced them that this was no ruse. Juir had been attacked, and from the description of the attackers, the ships appeared to be Klin.
Caleb had been privy to the discussions going back and forth between Earth and the fleet. Had the Klin really attacked Juir ahead of the Humans? By now it was universally believed that the Klin were responsible for the entire Human-Juirean conflict, with the intended purpose of weakening both races to the point where the Klin could then assume control of the Expansion. But then Falor-Kapel happened, leaving the Human Fleet stronger than any galactic force in thirty-five hundred years. The Klin would not stand a chance going up against the Humans.
With the belief that Juir had indeed been attacked, there developed a strong advocacy among certain parties for the fleet to turn around and return to Earth. The Juireans had been destroyed, so the revenge th
ey sought for the attack upon the Earth should now be satisfied. And who cared if the Klin now wanted to make themselves king? Galactic politics were not the responsibility of the Human race.
Others had argued that it had been the Klin who had tricked the Juireans into attacking the Earth, and therefore it was the Klin who Humanity should seek vengeance against. And now, from all accounts, they occupied Juir. To many, it didn’t seem right that the Klin should win, not after all the death and destruction their machinations had caused.
All these discussions had taken place rapidly and nearly continuously for the past week. The dynamics within the galaxy were rapidly changing, and however it all turned out, as far as RM1 Caleb Cobb was concerned, he was ready to go home.
Caleb was alone in the radio shack on the mid-watch — his watch-mate, RM2 Brian Dockins, had just left to grab a snack in the mess hall — when his comm screens began to light up. It was flash traffic from the forward units of the fleet, reporting a new message that had been picked up coming over a multitude of the lower wormhole frequencies. If it hadn’t been for Command’s thirst for more definitive intel on the Klin attack of Juir, most of these frequencies would have gone unscanned. As it was Caleb had now received no less than thirteen copies of the same short message.
And then his own scanner picked up the signal.
Caleb listened to the few short sentences and knew immediately to whom the message was addressed. He encrypted the recording on his computer and then left the radio shack just as Brian walked through the hatchway.
“Take over,” Caleb said as he passed Brian. “I have to report this.”
“Report what?” Brain mumbled after him, his mouth half-full of a roast beef sub. But Caleb was already gone.
The radio shack was located in the Combat Information Center of the ship and only a short distance from Admiral Allen’s underway cabin. Caleb approached the Admiral’s door, and even at this late hour, did not hesitate to knock. The Admiral would want to hear this.
