Koban 5: A Federation Forged in Fire

by Stephen W Bennett

  “Those colonies might not start for twenty damned years or more, Chief.”

  “I think some will come sooner than that, but if not, so what? You have the same long life Prada mod I do, Howie my boy, if not yet the youthful appearance and good looks. Nanites can’t help you on the looks, you either got ‘em or you don’t. How about forming a post-war partnership with me? I can getcha a good deal on a used, roomy, heavily armed cargo ship. Even with hard use, they last about a thousand years between rebuilds.”

  Chapter 5: The Pursuit

  The nine clanships of Telour’s small force completed a somewhat ragged White Out over the soft Krall prison planet. It was just over a four thousand light year Jump from K1, so they arrived within several minutes of one another, the small quantum uncertainties altering their arrival times after greater than three weeks in the Hole. Visitors here were rare, and the Tanga clan, which guarded the Krall’tapi, did not maintain an orbital watch.

  Only leaders of the Great clans knew of this world’s location, and of the other system, a three day’s Jump from here, where the Olt’kitapi had once planned to build their first gigantic artificial habitat, a Dyson Swarm of planetary diameter constructs. That system, with its rich supply of giant planets to use for building materials, and a small red star, offered a hundred billion years of solar stability for the multitude of species the Olt’kitapi had envisioned as eventually being invited to live there.

  That was where their growing fleet of Dismantler ships had been parked, preparing to start the great construction project. That was when the original version of the Krall species had seen the destructive potential of the powerful gravitation manipulating craft. Their ambition to control this technology, and to halt the modification of a segment of their species by the Olt’kitapi, was what had finally triggered the revolt the warrior race had been planning for over a thousand years. They intended to continue to evolve in a deliberate manner by their own choices, to become the scourge of the galaxy, and over the course of enough time, to conquer the entire galaxy. These were grand plans by what were, after all, space borne barbarians with borrowed and stolen technology, following what they called the Great Path. The Path of their own evolution, and built via enslaving or killing any species they met and taking their worlds, and their war making technology.

  Now the newest species, which the Krall had engaged in another war of extinction, was on the verge of knocking them off the Great Path. Telour knew what he had observed on Telda Ka potentially spelled the end for every Krall clan, if they were sent back to using only the technology they’d held before meeting the Olt’kitapi. They weren’t even prepared to conduct a war like that.

  By continuing to build the same weapons designed by their former benefactors, using the same style replicated factories, and employing the identical quantum coded keys that had denied other species the use and understanding of their war machines, the Krall leadership had made a similar mistake as had the Olt’kitapi. They came to rely too much on their stolen technology to hold an advantage over other non-warlike species. Combined with their slowly developing physical advantages, that technology had made them unstoppable. They had even turned over the manufacturing of their weapons to slaves. Their K’Tal no longer learned how to invent or create new things, only how to use what they had or acquired. As a species, they focused only on how to master combat.

  They had forced this formerly aggressive, more adaptable young species, to find a way to speed up their evolution and somehow produce fighters that were superior to an individual Krall in only a single generation or two. Now, with the cooperation of some freed slaves, they had learned how to deny the Krall the use of their traditional weapons of war. Telour reasoned that if he could hit humans hard enough one more time, that this enemy could be held at bay while new weapons of war were built. Weapons without quantum codes keys to restrict their use.

  He frankly didn’t know how the quantum code system worked, and none of the K’Tals he questioned had ever learned how their tattoos interacted with the keypads, and with other modules inside their smaller weapons. Nevertheless, humans made weapons that didn’t use such technology, and so had the early Krall for that matter. Therefore, the Prada and Torki could be made to do it for the Krall. All he needed was time, and he would destroy the small band of humans that had found the unsuspected weakness in Krall war making capability. It all could be corrected. He would force humanity to pause their attacks while new ships and weapons were built, and billions of eggs hatched, to produce overwhelming swarms of warriors.

  He wanted all of the remaining death ships for his purpose, so the first step was to collect soft Krall pilots. Telour, with his new insight, recognized how this too had ultimately made the Krall weaker, depending on the Olt’kitapi’s last great technological accomplishment, and on the older version of the Krall race that the ancients had somehow modified.

  He believed this weakness would vanish, when the last three ships quit functioning after his rampage of planetary destruction ended. Following that, there would be no need to preserve the soft Krall, or any of the soon to be useless ancient ships. He would destroy them, and turn his attention on rebuilding, to defeat humanity.

  Tanga may not have had clanships in orbit, but they were prompt in launching ten of them to challenge the nine arrivals, and sent a broadcasted demand.

  “I’m sub leader Jandol, of Tanga clan, commander of this outpost. Identify yourself.”

  “I am Tor Gatrol Telour and I recognize you. We met an orbit ago when I was sent to inspect the compound as Til Gatrol, when Parkoda was commander here.”

  The lips tightened on the image in the view screen. Telour’s last visit was not a pleasant one, and Jandol was unlikely ever to forget a single humiliating second of the visit.

  “Parkoda never returned after he left with you.” It wasn’t quite an accusation, and he’d left out the honorific of Tor in his reply.

  “He was free to return here, but he was still at Graka’s clanship production factory when human raiders attacked there. I presume he died honorably fighting the attackers, as did many of my clan mates.”

  This placating story was true, as far as Telour told it, but omitted the detail that Parkoda was deliberately stranded on the Graka clan world, hoping that he would be replaced as commander here before he could return. It didn’t sound like the new commandant was overly thrilled to see the indirect cause of his promotion return.

  “Tor Telour, your own representatives were here less than a quarter of an orbit ago for selecting a pilot for a living ship. He did not return and he was presumed killed. A courier that passed through here said it was a successful mission with two human worlds destroyed, but the living ship was lost. The soft Krall’s family was informed, and his family released unharmed as honor required. Are you here to verify that?”

  “No, and I have not returned for an inspection.” He wanted fast cooperation, so he did some placating.

  “As Parkoda’s chief sub leader, I know that you actually were the one that ran the camp so efficiently, and you rightfully earned your promotion after Parkoda was killed in combat. I have come to select six additional soft Krall pilots for a vital attack on human worlds. Our Worthy Enemy has counter attacked Telda Ka again, despite the destruction of two worlds intended to teach them a lesson.

  “We will destroy their home world this time and as many heavily populated Hub worlds as possible, using all three of the remaining ships. I have re-named them as death ships, and not living ships, to describe their actual use in our wars. The new Joint Council dome was again attacked, and only a few hands of the surviving clan leaders are with me on the ships I brought. We will chose pilots quickly with your help, and then depart.

  “When this triple death ship mission is completed, you and your command will be permitted to join the fight against humanity and leave this remote outpost, leaving its inhabitants and their dome a smoking ruin. Your status will be elevated for this service, and mentioned in our histories.”


  That stirred more than a semblance of interest and fervor in Jandol, even if it was purchased. Telour saw no need to concern him about the status point reward he would receive, despite the fact that the Tor’s own status was greatly diminished by the loss of so much of the fleet, and the possible fall of Telda Ka. Every clan had a share in losing such an enormous amount of status, and as in any time of shortage, what status anyone retained had a greater value, and the Tor had more to share.

  “We will be honored to escort you to the dome for pilot selection, my Tor.”

  “That would be efficient.” At least this stop would be delay free.

  This is starting out right, thought Telour.

  ****

  Humanity once used a simple and basic name convention for natural satellites orbiting a planet. Such satellites were always called a moon. If a lifeless satellite was orbiting a giant planet, even if that satellite was Earth sized, it was still called a moon.

  Then when it was discovered that two gas giant planets in the Sol system had a few satellites that supported primitive life in their watery depths, a new naming convention was established, to distinguish those satellites from their lifeless brethren. Life-bearing satellites were thereafter called a planetoon, and they received special protections from exploitation and visitation to avoid contamination. If a planetoon in turn had a satellite, it was called a moony, even though none was found in the Sol system.

  A planetoon and moony combination was a relatively rare system, and they only happened where the small satellite was within what is known as the planetoon’s gravitational Hill sphere. That term was defined by an American astronomer named George William Hill. It meant the planetoon’s gravity dominated the moony’s orbit more than did the more distant Jovian. Exactly the same principle applied to the Jovian, when its gravitational attraction for the planetoon dominated its orbit versus the more distant star’s attraction, meaning that the planetoon was inside the Jovian’s Hill sphere.

  The system the Olt’kitapi had selected for construction of their Dyson Swarm habitats coincidentally contained a planetoon and moony pair.

  ****

  This doesn’t look right, Telour thought when his clanship performed its White Out near an airless moony at the prescribed standoff distance in the stellar system where the Olt’kitapi ships had originally been found parked. He made the week long Jump from the soft Krall prison world with a single clanship, per the millennia old protocol for such visits. But where were the Guardians that should have been here to challenge him within seconds?

  There were no transmissions made to them, or even a sign of Guardian ships, which were always stationed on, or near this moony. Some of the Guardian clanships normally orbited the large rocky and habitable planetoon, which also held the moony in its gravitational grip. The planetoon was itself the largest satellite of many dozens of moons that swung around a super Jovian gas giant, but it wasn’t an airless world, and was of course not lifeless.

  He didn’t know the exact number of ships or Guardians normally posted here, but on his previous visit, Telour’s craft had been met in space by sixteen clanships, and there were four hands of clanships parked next to the dome on the airless moony. Even more clanships were parked near the dome on the larger planetoon.

  His clanship had been instructed to land on this moony previously, after an inspection out here in space under the distrustful guns of the Guardians. Once on the moony he and the few warriors he was allowed to select to accompany him (Parkoda had been forced to come along for further humiliation), were shuttled down to the parent planetoon, to land inside an extinct volcanic crater, close to the row of parked Olt’kitapi ships. Guardians were already inside the ship he was to inspect, armed against any possible attempt to take one of the powerful ships without authorization.

  There were no clanships near the dome on the moony this time, and there was no reply to his repeated attempts at radio contact. It was impossible to follow the protocol if the Guardians didn’t participate. Before leaving the vicinity of the moony, he had his navigator and weapons master perform active scans of the near vicinity around the rocky planetoon, and then farther out, millions of miles along the orbit around the gas behemoth that dominated the sky.

  There were two other large moons detected but no clanships sighted. After many impatient minutes, there was no reply from the large dome on the planetoon. They were barely seventy thousand miles away, but the small moony was presently on the wrong side of the parent world to see that dome.

  He ordered his navigator to accelerate and leave the airless moony behind, moving ahead in its same orbit, maintaining their present distance from the world below. Soon, they were positioned between the planetoon and the more distant monster gas world. The scar of the large volcanic crater was visible below them. There were sixty-four clanships parked on the tarmac around the dome, something they were able to see as soon as they came around the limb of the world.

  There still were no replies to their communication attempts. Telour made a broadcast in which he identified himself as the Tor Gatrol, and stated his intentions to land at the dome.

  His weapons master spoke his concerns. “My Tor, this is strange. Should I activate our tracking radar for defensive missile launches?”

  “No. The Guardians might take that as a sign of a rogue clan that is attempting to take unauthorized possession of the death ships. We could never successfully defend against all of their combined weapons. Nevertheless, heat our plasma chambers, and leave the automatic laser defenses active. Do not open any weapons ports, which would look threatening.”

  The navigator had a suggestion. “My Tor, I can hold an energetic tachyon, in case you order a Jump away from here. We can descend on Normal Space drive, without a thruster plume forming a blind spot for our sensors below us.”

  “I approve of the precautions, but when we reach atmosphere we can’t form a Jump Hole that deep in the gravity well. I don’t know of a reason for the Guardians to attack us, or to ignore us as they have. Their sole duty is to preserve these weapons for use by the appointed war leaders of the Krall. I was that war leader when the previous ship was used. It may be that they did not anticipate another use of these ships for several thousand years. It has never happened before so soon. If they have become lax in their duty, they will be replaced.”

  He realized how hollow that threat was. If I use the remaining ships, the Guardian’s purpose no longer exists. They may resist being disbanded, as if they were an established clan.

  To his weapons master and navigator, he instructed, “Watch for any activity that appears hostile, such as a clanship opening their firing ports, or if you detect heat buildup on the hulls over the plasma chambers of the parked clanships. Be ready to return fire as we move away at maximum acceleration.”

  They were prepared for an attack, but nothing marred their landing where Telour ordered, at an isolated spot well apart from the other ships on the tarmac. There were still no signs of activity.

  The sixty-four escort warriors he had expected to leave behind on the moony now formed a large honor guard for him. The six soft Krall he brought were locked up and kept apart, wearing shackles, with four warriors guarding each of them, per protocol if they had landed on the moony. His aides and other clan leaders remained as well.

  The honor guard, carrying arms, which definitely wasn’t according to standard protocol, lined up on each side of the deployed ramp, and fell in behind Telour as he passed them, to form a double rank following in trail. The Guardians had broken with protocol, and he wasn’t walking into the dome unarmed. He carried pistols on each hip, since toting a plasma rifle took away the smooth, arms free fast stride of confidence and authority he was projecting.

  Proceeding at a fast pace, but slower than the typical run, Telour thought it leant him dignity, by his making an obviously unconcerned approach to the dome. To some, this might indicate the opposite, by uncharacteristically displaying a false lack of concern in circumstances
that surely seemed to warrant a level of uncertainty.

  When they arrived at the dome, the personnel entry doors on this side were closed, but not secured. A twist of the door handles and the lead warriors opened several easily. An octet rushed through each open door, weapons off standby, but held in a cross-chest carry that showed them to be prepared, but not seeking targets. Telour entered the center of the three doors with the remainder of his honor guard. There was no one to be seen, and except for the faint sounds of air processing and the vague sounds that a powered dome always made, there was no sign of the Guardians.

  Telour sent two octets of warriors to spread out and check out the central hall, the exercise level, and the watch standers consoles under the armored glass roof of the top level. The com set reports arrived in minutes. There were was no one in the dome, and nothing looked out of place.

  “Pilot,” He called back to the ship. “Prepare my shuttle. We will visit the death ships.” They had been visible along the worn crater rim as they landed, almost three miles from the dome. He wasn’t taking any of the soft ones along with him just yet. He intended to see if he could gain entry on his own, as he had done when accompanied by Guardians over a year ago when he visited. He knew the Guardians had no special access rights to the ships over any other Krall.

  Not even a Guardian could order one of the ships AI’s to do anything. Doors and air locks opened automatically when any Krall approached one of the active ships. Only a soft one could order doors to lock, could regulate the temperature of a compartment, ask the ship to reconfigure a compartment’s walls and doorways, or to instruct the ship to prepare for departure.

  He elected to take only one shuttle, with room for an octet to fly with him and the pilot. The other shuttle would bring the soft Krall and guards if he sent for them. He had brought two operators per death ship, in the event one had to be killed as an object lesson for the other. He would solve the puzzle of the absent guardians later. His first priority was to see if he could enter each of the three ships, and then he’d have the prisoners brought to him, along with the aides he would use to crew the death ships, and at least two octets of warriors per ship. This time he intended to travel on one of the ships himself. The rest of his honor guard he sent towards the row of parked ships since it was only a three-mile run. He estimated he would pass them in the shuttle just before they arrived.