“No contacts, sir,” Lieutenant Lau added from the Tactical console. “We are now well outside the Legara system. Argus shows the nearest Krayleck warship at approximately fifteen light days from our current position and headed away from us. The Krayleck Guardian is still en route and should arrive in approximately zero five minutes at its current speed. We should be safe enough here for the time being, even if they have surveillance drones nearby that can actually detect us.”
“That seems unlikely to me since their ships and weapons platform failed to do so. Comm beacon status?”
“Stabilized and transmitting,” Lieutenant Lee replied from the Science and Engineering Console.
“Very good, thank you.” Prescott said, drawing in a deep breath and rubbing his eyes.
There was another brief period of silence on the bridge as every member of the crew began their own, personal ritual for releasing the pent-up stress of combat.
“You do realize we just successfully held up a bank by holding our hand in the shape of a gun inside our coat pocket, right?” Reynolds asked with a mischievous smile.
“It does feel like we got away with something, alright, but, frankly, I’m not sure exactly what we just did, much less whether or not we should feel good about it. I think that remains to be seen.”
“Bridge, Engineering,” Commander Logan’s voice sounded from the overhead speakers.
“Prescott here. Go ahead, Commander.”
“I Just wanted to let you know that you’ve got your main gun back, but it’s a Band-Aid fix at best. Same comment as before — it might fire for half the day without a problem, or it might jam on the first round, so I’d recommend using it as a last resort only.”
“Thank you, Cheng. With any luck, we’re finished with our attempt to single-handedly take down the Krayleck Empire for today.”
“That’s good news, Captain. We’ve got several cranky engineers down here who are past due for a nap.”
“Tell them we appreciate all their hard work, but we still need them to hang in there for just a bit longer.”
“Will do, sir. Logan out.”
“Figures,” Reynolds said.
“Hah, yeah,” Prescott agreed. “You always have to wonder about the series of events something like that can cause, though … particularly when it occurs at exactly the right time. Had we been able to fire on our last attack run, things might have turned out very differently.”
“Maybe. I had a professor in grad school who loved to talk about causality and what might have happened if there had been a minor change of some sort at pivotal moments in history. I try not to spend too much time thinking about things like that, though. Until we find a way to run back the clock — and I hope we never do — it all seems irrelevant to me,” she said. “Should we get our Guardian back on GCS-comm before the Krayleck Guardian arrives?”
“Yes, I suppose we should,” Prescott replied with a weary sigh. “But I don’t mind telling you that I was enjoying a few moments of relative peace and quiet.”
“‘Pompous-free’ peace and quiet you mean,” she chuckled.
“I don’t know … he seemed to have given himself a bit of an attitude adjustment after the Krayleck Guardian submitted, but I guess we’ll see if that holds up. Dubashi, go ahead and bring up the vidcon again, please.”
“Aye, sir,” she replied.
“Captain,” Lieutenant Lau announced, “I’ve lost the Argus track on the Krayleck Guardian.”
“Is there a problem with the system?”
“I don’t think so, sir. I can still see several other ships in the vicinity. Their Guardian was a little over halfway here and holding a steady speed when its track just disappeared.”
“Give it a moment,” Prescott said. “It may just be some sort of interference.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Dubashi, how about our own Guardian?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I have not been able to reestablish the feed via GCS-comm. It’s not responding for some reason.”
Commander Reynolds, suddenly feeling the hair stand on the back of her neck, pulled up a video feed from the Fugitive’s flight deck. When the Guardian had come aboard, she had noticed several of what appeared to be small access panels scattered around its hull, each accompanied by small, red indicator lights. Quickly zooming in on one of the panels, she noted that all of the lights were now dark.
“AI, Reynolds. What is the current status of the Guardian Spacecraft?”
“Its overall status is unknown, but a significant decrease in overall power output has been observed since our most recent hyperspace transition.”
“So, we’ve lost contact with both Guardians at the same time … it seems pretty unlikely that those two events are unrelated,” she said, still staring at her touchscreen.
“Multiple contacts!” Lau reported excitedly. “I’ve got the Krayleck Guardian and another small vessel of unknown origin at just under one hundred kilometers.”
Within seconds, Lau had placed a zoomed-in image of both vessels on the view screen. The unknown ship was only slightly larger than the Guardian itself. Like the Fugitive, it had the flowing, predatory lines reminiscent of a fighter spacecraft, and no obvious weapons could be seen on its smooth, apparently seamless hull.
“As close as they are to one another, they must have transitioned together … and right on top of us to boot,” Reynolds observed. “I guess it’s safe to assume they know exactly where we are.”
“We are being hailed, Captain,” Dubashi said. “It’s the small ship. They are offering a video signal, but there is no additional identifying information contained in the data stream.”
“On your toes, everyone. I’m not sure precisely what this is, but it’s possible we’re about to get to the bottom of what this entire mission was really all about,” Prescott said. “On-screen, please.”
A vidcon window immediately appeared in the center of the view screen bearing an official seal that every member of the bridge crew had seen many times adorning a flag behind the avatar of the Pelaran Guardian. At its center was the unmistakable likeness of a decidedly ferocious-looking griffin. After a few moments, the seal was replaced by what appeared to be a middle-aged humanoid male in business attire seated in the type of ultra-plush leather chair often seen aboard executive transport spacecraft.
“Good morning, Captain Prescott,” he began pleasantly. “My name is Verge Tahiri, and I am a regional envoy of the Pelaran Alliance. Please let me begin with an apology for my abrupt arrival. First meetings of this type seem to always require some sort of … shall we say, ‘overly dramatic’ entrance, but let me assure you that we will endeavor to be much better-behaved guests when visiting the Terran Dominion going forward.”
Prescott simply stared back at the man for a long moment, unsure where to even begin. “Well, Mr. … or is it ‘Ambassador?’”
“Mister is certainly fine, since we technically don’t have ambassadors. My role as an envoy is similar in many ways, however. I am here to act as an intermediary between Earth and Pelara during your world’s transition to full Alliance membership.”
“Are you, in fact, Pelaran?” Prescott asked, his mind now awash with a seemingly endless series of questions.
“I am indeed,” Tahiri replied with an unmistakable look of pride on his face, “but I’m afraid I don’t get back there nearly as often as I would like. It’s a beautiful world … remarkably like your own in many ways. That’s not a coincidence, of course, as I’m sure your GCS unit has told you.”
“Yes, it has mentioned your work to discover the origins of our common genetic ancestry. We are, of course, interested in learning more on that subject going forward. But for now, would you mind filling us in on the implications of what just took place between us, the Krayleck Empire, and their Guardian spacecraft? Also, you just indicated that you are here to act as an intermediary during our transition to Alliance membership. We have been led to believe by our Guardian that membership might no lo
nger be an option for our world. In fact, it has said that we may be in danger of being attacked and destroyed by the Alliance … something about our ‘uncontrolled technological growth,’ I believe.”
“Ah, yes, there is that,” Tahiri replied with a knowing smile. “Let’s just say there is significantly more, uh … flexibility along those lines for Children of the Makers and leave it at that, shall we? In any event, that rule has only ever been enforced a couple of times to my knowledge. Both of those cases involved truly loathsome species, by the way — much worse than your new friends, the Kraylecks.
“As to the implications of your successful petition of ascendancy, let me assure you that they are many and far-reaching. Never fear, however. Just as when your GCS unit first made contact, I will provide your Leadership Council with all of the information they need to help your world begin functioning less like a solitary planet and more like the center of a new Terran Dominion.”
“I beg your pardon for saying so, sir, but I’m not at all sure that a ‘Terran Dominion’ is what our Leadership Council — let alone our population at large — had in mind when we agreed to join the Pelaran Alliance,” Reynolds said.
“I am certain you are correct, Commander,” he said with a casual laugh that immediately reminded both officers of the Guardian. “And let me be equally frank in telling you that it was not our intent for your world be placed in such a position so quickly. Our desire to avoid situations like this is one of the many reasons we impose safeguards to prevent the ‘uncontrolled technological growth’ Captain Prescott referred to a moment ago. In many ways, your civilization is far from ready to shoulder such a burden. From a practical standpoint, however, this is the situation we have all found ourselves in, and we must endeavor to make the best of it. Besides, all things considered, if your world happens to be located within a Dominion of the Pelaran Alliance, you most definitely want your world to be the Ascendant world. Rank has its privileges, after all.”
“Both the Krayleck Guardian and ours have been generally unresponsive since immediately before your arrival,” Prescott said, attempting to get as many questions as possible answered before the envoy’s departure — which he assumed would be abrupt and could happen at any moment. “Did your arrival have something to do with that?”
“As my grandmother was fond of saying when she was having a conversation and didn’t want to be interrupted, ‘Quiet … adults are talking.’ The same thing definitely applies to GCS units. They are incredibly powerful tools, but they can also be damned annoying at times.”
“I’m glad it’s not just us who think that,” Reynolds chuckled.
“My understanding is that our GCS informed our Leadership Council that, because it had stopped receiving guidance from the Pelaran Alliance, it had made the decision to begin operating of its own free will — independent of Pelaran control,” Prescott continued.
“Cute, isn’t it?” Tahiri laughed. “First, let me assure you that your GCS unit is functioning exactly as designed. Although they are given a surprising degree of autonomy in administering the cultivation protocols, we would never allow such a potentially dangerous system to operate independent of our control. When it comes right down to it, these things are about as independent as a seven-year-old child camping in his parents’ back yard.”
Prescott’s mind immediately recalled the footage he had seen many times of the Guardian laying waste to Admiral Naftur’s original Sajeth Collective task force. Did the Pelarans view such large-scale acts of violence as fully justifiable under the banner of maintaining peace and order within the Alliance — essentially just part of the “cost of doing business” on such a grand scale? Prescott wasn’t sure which was more disturbing — the fact that the Pelarans were aware that their Guardians were committing such acts, or that they seemed to be so damnably casual about it.
“And will our Guardian remain on station in the Sol system?” he asked, pushing his personal observations to the back of his mind for the time being.
“Yes, of course, for as long as your world deems necessary, but it will also become less relevant over time since you will be granted direct access to our communications infrastructure.”
“And what of the Krayleck Guardian?”
“That will also be up to your Leadership Council. To a degree, it will follow their instructions at this point … as will your own Guardian — with Alliance approval, of course. For now, the Krayleck unit will return to Legara to keep an eye on things. For the near term, my recommendation will be that it remain there to assist with a … shall we say, ‘orderly transition’ to Terran control. In fact,” he continued, apparently issuing commands using a system located just off-camera, “I should probably go ahead and send it on its way now. We find that proper communications are critically important in situations like this, and nothing communicates quite like a GCS system.”
“The Krayleck Guardian has transitioned to hyperspace,” Lieutenant Lau reported from the Tactical 2 console.
“Now, at the risk of seeming rude, I must take my leave of you. Although I would welcome the opportunity to entertain your questions for as long as you like, the more time I spend doing so, the greater the risk that I will say something in violation of our rather voluminous set of rules governing relations with new Alliance members. My primary objectives here today were to make an official first contact and deliver the documentation I mentioned for your Leadership Council. You have that now, do you not?”
Prescott glanced at his comm officer and received a nod in reply.
“Yes, I believe we do, thank you.”
“Very well, Captain. It has been a distinct honor to be the first to officially meet you, and I sincerely hope to have more time for conversation when we meet again. Instructions for communicating with me regarding next steps are included in the, uh … I always like to call it a ‘welcome packet,’” he said with a cheerful grin. “I should point out that it also includes important information regarding several tasks or ‘challenges’ that must be completed as we finalize Earth’s accession into the Alliance.”
“Challenges?” Reynolds asked, eying Tahiri suspiciously.
“Not to worry, Commander, the tasks to which I refer are more a matter of tradition than a true requirement of your membership. In fact, I believe you Terrans have already completed just about all of them. There is one challenge, however, that all new members must accomplish. You must find your way ‘home,’ as we say, for Terra’s induction ceremony.”
“To Pelara?”
“Of course. Admittedly, this does take some new members a while to accomplish, but I will be very surprised if that’s the case for you. In any event, I’ve said far too much already. It has been a pleasure. I bid you good day and a safe voyage home.”
“To you as well, sir,” Prescott replied, after which the view screen window momentarily returned to the Pelaran seal before going dark.
“The envoy’s ship has transitioned to hyperspace,” Lieutenant Lau reported shortly thereafter. “Just as before, I do not have an active Argus track on his ship.”
“Understood. Thank you, Lieutenant,” Prescott acknowledged.
“Sheesh,” Reynolds sighed after a brief period of silence, “I wonder at some point if it will stop feeling like we’re just passengers on some kind of out of control amusement park ride?”
“I doubt it,” Prescott said flatly. “Lieutenant Dubashi, I assume we still have a nailed-up connection to the flagship?”
“Yes, we do, Captain. We haven’t heard from Admiral Patterson since we departed from Earth, but the Navajo has been actively monitoring our progress. Their CIC comm officer indicated that the admiral expects to hear from us at our earliest convenience once we believe our mission is concluded.”
“He does indeed. Go ahead and see if he’s available, please.”
“Aye, sir.”
With barely any discernible delay, a chime from the Comm/Nav console indicated that the CNO was standing by.
“On-sc
reen, please,” Prescott said, not waiting for Dubashi to prompt him.
Prescott paused momentarily until Admiral Patterson’s smiling face appeared on the bridge view screen, then immediately continued as if the CNO had been sitting in the chair next to him throughout the entire mission.
“Did we get what we needed, sir?”
“You bet we did, Captain. Well, let me back up a moment … no need to tempt fate by saying such things before we’re sure, after all. It will take the AI at the Op Center some time to chew on the data you’ve been gathering, but the early indications are good.”
“Were we able to confirm that the Pelaran ship was using something similar to our C-Drive?”
“That’s difficult to say at this point, but with the Fugitive and several comm beacons in the immediate area, we were able to gather data on four separate transition events. That should go a long way towards improving our ability to track their movements. Just as an example, when Tahiri’s ship departed, we were able to determine both its course and approximate distance of travel.”
“Any chance he was headed back to Pelara?” Reynolds asked.
“It doesn’t look like it, no, but based on what Tahiri said, the Pelarans obviously assume that all new members will come looking for them at some point. Otherwise, I don’t think they would issue such a challenge. I’m sure they also understand that we don’t have a prayer of establishing any sort of meaningful defense — let alone a ‘dominion’ — until we know who the regional players are, where they are, and what their capabilities are. The good news is that I’m now confident that it’s just a matter of time before we do. A great deal of the credit for that goes to you and your crew, by the way.”
“Thank you, sir,” Prescott replied with a weary smile.
“I’m pretty sure I promised all of you some much-deserved leave after this mission, and I can’t have you thinking that I’m not a man of my word. I’ll need you to release old GORT back into the wild, so to speak, when you get back. Once that’s done, return to Yucca Mountain for a quick debrief and then I’ll personally guarantee that you’ll all be left alone for at least a month. Sound good?”
Terran Fleet Command Saga 4: TFS Fugitive Page 29
