by Trevor Wyatt
Despite all that, I never take my eyes off the humanoid creature on the screen. It doesn’t seem to speak or engage me in any way – it just stares back at me.
I have played this game over and over again. First with the Outers during our border skirmishes before the war; then with some space pirates, who shamelessly operate even during the war (there are rumors that some pirates even sell to Sonali). Then with the Sonali, both the one I met in this region and the ones I met and destroyed following that.
I am a seasoned poker player. I refuse to be bullied into nervousness by the power of silence. Even though time is running short, I position myself like I have all the time in the world. It’s not like that thing knows that my time is limited.
“I’m going to ask you one more time,” I say with a lot more force and vigor. “Are you responsible for the destruction of The Mariner, a Terran Armada starship that was investigating a scientific phenomenon in this quadrant five years ago?”
Right in front of our eyes, a second occupant of the vessel comes into view, handing over to the one I am addressing some sort of device. It disappears from view, allowing us to watch as the humanoid creature puts this device over his beck like a neck brace.
The creature begins to speak … in English. “Yes. I was responsible for the destruction of the craft you speak of.”
At first, I’m not sure what I just heard. Was he admitting to understanding my question, or was he admitting to a crime that led us down a five-year path of blood and fire with an innocent race? I wonder if the device, which now appears to me to be a translator, may be faulty.
“You look surprised?” the creature says, blinking several times in a minute.
“Did you just admit to destroying our ship?” I ask. I am not about to start another war over some faulty translator.
“Yes, I destroyed the ship,” it says again.
Anger begins to build inside me. “Do you understand the ramifications of that?”
“I understand. Very well,” it replies.
“State the reason or reasons for which you harmed an innocent starship,” I demand, allowing my anger to modulate my voice. “And your reasons better be good.”
“Innocent?” the creature says. “You call them innocent? They were not innocent. They transgressed our laws and paid the ultimate process with their life.” The creature then emits a series of hacking laughter that carries the weight of an ominous tone.
“What laws?” I say, trying to catch up to his (if he is, in fact, a he) reasoning. “The Terran Union or the Terran Armada wasn’t informed of any wrong doing by its ship or captain. Neither were we invited to any criminal proceeding that ended in a death penalty. As such you had no right to execute them.”
I’m having a hard time keeping my anger under control. I know it. But this has been a long time coming. All I want to do is send a barrage of torpedoes and lasers in the ship’s direction. I may not be able to destroy it, sure; but I can at least damage it, which will provide me with some level of satisfaction.
Before the alien begins replying, I glance at the communication’s officer and mutter to her, “I hope this is being recorded?”
She gives me a slight nod and I return my focus to the creature.
“We have no laws but the laws we make for ourselves,” it says. “Your ship was found desecrating this nebula. For that crime she was destroyed.”
A question quickly pops into my mind: how does one desecrate a nebula? I don’t ask that question right away, though. I wait for a while, processing what the creature’s telling me and deciding on my best course of action.
The Mariner is gone. Starting a war with these people isn’t going to bring them back. Perhaps, the five year war of attrition we have waged against the Sonali have effectively bled us dry. We can’t afford another costly war with something as powerful as what I see before me. I have to proceed with caution.
This isn’t the time for torpedoes, but for diplomacy.
“We assure you, The Mariner wasn’t sent to this nebula to desecrate it. The Mariner possessed limited offensive capability, except the ones necessary to weather an asteroid belt or to destroy an obstacle in its path. The Mariner could never have posed a threat to you. I tell you, you’ve wrongfully executed judgment and killed innocent people.”
“You misunderstand me, Captain,” the creature replies. “They desecrated our nebula by trying to probe. You see many, many millennia ago our home world was destroyed by an alien race – much more advanced than us. To survive, we migrated from that world to space. We moved from system to systems in search of a suitable home until we came to this nebula. We have grown and thrived in the relative peace and silence of this nebula, and we have laid our claim to it.
“Your science vessel broke that silence by invading our territory. They were trying to learn about us. For this they were destroyed.”
“So you destroyed our people because they were trying to learn about this nebula and about you?” I ask. I want to be sure we hear everything clearly and not morphed by anecdotes or emotion.
“Indeed,” the creature replies. “We wanted to protect our privacy. To guard against those who would see us destroyed again. This is my job as viceroy, to ensure the continued survival of my species. The only way I can achieve this is by keeping our existence a secret. I could not let your ship leave this place with the knowledge of our existence. So I had to destroy it.”
I frown. I am uncomfortable with the moral compass on this creature. How can they dole out wanton destruction on a harmless ship without scruples?
“If I heard you correctly, you said you migrated to space?” I say. “What did you mean by that? Did you build space stations?”
“No,” it replies. “We built big space ships.”
“So you live on these space ships?” I ask.
“Yes,” it says. “There are only five of these ships remaining. They are enough for us for now.”
“If you have ships, why couldn’t you people move to another nebula?” I probe further. “Why destroy our ship?”
“Because we have lived here for so long we are unwilling to move again,” it replies. “Sometimes we set up on asteroids and use our ships to keep the asteroids in place … this place. But ultimately we live in our ships and this is where our ships belong. This place is now our heritage.”
I am about to ask another question, when it says, “And this brings me to what I really have to say. I will do whatever it takes to protect my people. I encountered a Captain Davan of The Mariner. I took the form of a Sonali using the same technology that allowed me to pose as your vessel. I spoke of peace and trade. And then I destroyed them. I hope you will understand the reason why I must destroy you also. You have found us. You know our secret. I cannot allow you to possess this knowledge and go away from you. It pains me, deeply, but I must destroy you as well. Your ship and your entire crew have to die.”
“You can’t…”
The creature vanishes from the screen.
“Captain, the signal has been terminated.”
“Get him back!” I yell, pounding my fist into my chair. My heart is racing and jerking in all directions.
I have just led my people into a death trap.
“Captain, they are not responding to our hails,” the communications officer says.
“Captain,” this comes from the tactical officer, “I am picking up a building surge of emerging in specific areas of the ship. This energy signature is akin to the one Dr. Lannigan defines as destructive and with the same exact electromagnetic signature found on The Mariner debris. Captain … I think they are charging their weapons.”
“Evasive maneuvers!” I yell for the second time.
The navigator, whose hands are light on the control, throws The Seeker into a dangerous deep dive. The inertia dampers, which are also responsible for gravity are strained as it attempts to maintain gravity. I latch on to my seat as many of the officers in the CNC are thrown away from their stations. The naviga
tor and tactical officers, who are so trained, remain where they are, coordinating the ship’s response.
I watch as a flood of light leap out of the alien vessel and lance through space to where we previously occupied. Then I feel a sharp jolt as we are hit.
“We were hit, sir!” the tactical officer announces.
“Damage report,” I say.
“Minimal, sir,” Ashley replies. “Our shield surprisingly bore the brunt of the impact.”
“Sir, shields are down to seventy-five percent,” the tactical officer announces. “The ship is charging again!”
“Evade, lieutenant,” I say to the navigator. Then to the tactical officer, I say, “Get ready to fire at their stern. Photon torpedo.”
“Aye, captain,” the tactical officer says.
The next few shots miss us by a wide berth.
“Captain, I think we need to reconsider our action,” Ashley says. “These people are afraid. They are scared. They have had minimal contact with the known world, so all they know to do is destroy what comes their way. The Mariner didn’t have our defensive capabilities that was why it was fried. Now that we do, instead of destroying them, let’s try and reason with them. The war we have with the Sonali is one too many. Perhaps…they said they live on their ships. Who knows how many are on that ship. A billion. Two?”
It dawns on me the path we’re going.
We’re about to be evade. Maybe we’ll die. Maybe we’ll get out in one piece.
Then I’ll go file a report with Armada Command. And then four hundred starships will be dispatched from Edoris Station. To take out the next enemy.
If we die, then the starship captains that are hailing us will report back.
More blood.
More war.
It has to stop somewhere.
It stops here.
“You’re right, Commander,” I say, suddenly realizing I could just make a powerful new step for all of humanity. Even if we all die here, I can’t have that happen. Even if my legacy is a sham, at least I’ll go down knowing that I did the best I could.
“Tactical, belay last order. Switch primary weapons to particle beams and target their primary engine,” I say.
We are in the middle of a dive to port, when I give the order to fire. Bright blue bolts shoot out from underneath us and hit their targets. The ship before us shudders visibly and I see a cascade of explosions underneath and behind the ship.
“Bring us around to face them,” I say to navigation.
“Captain, it appears your plan was unsuccessful,” Dr. Taft says. “The primary engine that feeds the propulsion and weapons is still operational. I’m detecting an incredible buildup of energy. They’re about to fire their most powerful weapon.”
Shit!
At that moment, the rest of the fleet materialize all around our ship
“Great! The cavalry.” I say to the communications officer, “Send them a notification that the ship is armed, dangerous and aggressive. Tell them to shoot to damage not…”
At that moment, the navigator sends The Seeker into a forward spin to avoid a shot from the alien ship. My words hang in my mouth as the bold maneuver and almost send the content of my stomach upwards.
“Sir, that blast just took out two of our ships!” says the tactical officer.
“What do you mean took out two of our ships?” I say. I look at the view screen where I see the two ships breaking apart in flames, bodies floating around, dead.
“Fire at will!” I yell.
The screen is lit up with blasts as The Seeker and the rest of the fleet open up on the ship. The alien ship is able to get off another powerful blast that destroy two more Armada ships before it is damaged by our weapons.
“Give the order for the fleet to hold off their attack,” I say.
The fleet responds, holding fire. The alien ship, now incapacitated, floats adrift in the midst of the Terran Armada.
“Contact the ship,” I say to my communications officer. “Maybe now they’ll listen to what we have to say.”
The creature looms into view. I see fear in its eyes. I am not sure how I know, but I know that the expression I see in its face is fear. They must be thinking we’re going to destroy them, I think to myself.
“If we continue at this rate,” I say to the creature. “You will be destroyed. And we don’t even know your name and the name of your people.”
This is it – war or words.
“My name is Commander Ullian of the Nakra,” it says.
“Look, commander Ullian,” I begin. You’ve destroyed four of my ships. I am obligated to destroy yours, but I’m not going to. I want to give us a chance at peace. I give you the assurance of the Terran Union, which is the government I represent, that we will not exploit your people, nor will we invade or colonize your ships or asteroids or wherever the Nakra people reside.”
“How do we know you tell the Nakra people the truth?” Commander Ulian says. “There are barely fifty thousand of us left in the universe.”
I flash a side glance to Ashley. So much for one billion.
“The Terran Union doesn’t do genocide,” I reply. “It’s our purpose to prevent war and stop killing - not perpetuate it.”
The Nakra Commander remains calm for a while. I watch his eyes blink more times than usual in a second and I assume he’s considering my implicit proposal.
I continue.
“A little over one hundred and fifty years ago, my people suffered a near extinction level event the same as yours did,” I say with a sigh. I wipe my brow and choose my words. “Only, we didn’t nearly die because of another alien species came and tried to wipe us out. We did that to ourselves.”
The Nakra Commander widens his eyes. It looks like that’s the universal sign for amazement at another’s stupidity.
“We used weapons of mass destruction on our own population, and we killed two fifths of our own race,” I say and pause. “We murdered 3.2 billion of our own people on our own homeworld.”
“You did this to yourselves? Less than two hundred eclipses ago?” Ullian asks. “And you ask us to believe in your capacity for peace?”
I sigh. The man’s got a point.
“We came out to space to survive what we had done to ourselves and to rebuild,” I reply back. “And we promised ourselves that we would never again go down the path that we had nearly finished. We would never again commit genocide on ourselves. Or each other.”
I know I’m patched in and the other captains in the fleet can hear me.
“We’ve learned our lessons, Ullian,” I say. “Our exploration of space is my species rallying cry that we can do better. That we must do better. And each day is a reminder that we will never go down that path again.”
There’s a long silence. I can feel the eyes of the CNC crew on me.
Sure, I may have just gone in and psychoanalyzed the human race. But it makes sense to me now.
More than why the Wolf Offensive struck us as so wrong.
More than why this war seems wrong.
Humanity can do better. We must do better.
“We accept your offer of peace,” the Commander says with a final tone. “Thank you.” The creature vanishes from the screen.
Well, that was easy, I think to myself. The Sonali sure liked acting like politicians, but these Nakra sure take things at face-value.
Speaking of Sonali. I realize that we need to stop a war before it takes a dangerous turn.
“Contact all ships,” I tell Taylor. “Tell them it’s over. Send over a recording of my dealings with the Nakra and let them know I’ve just brokered peace between us and them.”
Taylor nods and set to work on that.
“How long for repairs to be effected and concluded? Just so we’re operational?” I ask Ashley.
“Forty-five minutes, max,” she replies, after consulting her console.
“Shoot for twenty,” I say. “We have a genocide to stop and time is running out.”
Jeryl
I stand in my office, watching the view screen that is linked to the main one in the CNC. I drum my fingertips against my thigh as I stare into the vastness of space, the hull of The Seeker the only thing cutting through the darkness.
We are racing against time. There’s no other way to put it. If I don’t make it in time, I’ll be responsible for the slaughter of a billion people – a genocide.
I really don’t have a plan. I don’t even know the fact that the Sonali aren’t responsible for the destruction of The Mariner will change the outcome of the war. The war’s now being fueled by the burning desire of the Sonali to see mankind wiped out of the surface of the universe and by the human’s deep seethed hatred for the Sonali people. Like a lit bush that spreads to engulf an entire forest, the conflict may have reached the point of no return.
Still, I have to try. If I don’t, then the point of no return will be long behind us.
But how do I stop this? How do I prevent the deaths of a billion of Sonali in one fell swoop?
How do I get two warring races, who have been so hell bent on destroying each other, to consider the option of peace? That’s why I’m here, inside my office – I’ve taken time off the CNC to review my options.
I’ve been here for more time than I intended, and I still don’t have a credible plan. Yet, I know I must stop the Wolf Offensive. If it happens, it’ll be the blunder that history will never forgive humanity for.
We’ve learned that there are more intelligent species in the universe. We have already fought with two: the Sonali and the Nakra. There are many more that we’ve met since then. Some are large regional powers that we discovered have borders intersecting ours like the Drupadi Regime, the Children of Zorm, the Tyreesian Collective, the Reznak Empire. Others are non-aligned and much more provincial They stayed out of our “little” war with the Sonali to probably judge our advancement as a species.
