by S. H. Jucha
“The ashes would reveal that,” Tatia commented to Alex.
“Your deduction was decisive, Alex,” Z said. “As one who embraces the world of numbers and probabilities, I must appreciate your abstract reasoning.”
Alex craned his neck to stare at the SADE.
“I’m practicing,” Z replied, his expression one of apology. “Miranda said I was to be more in touch with my emotional algorithms, elevating them in my hierarchy.”
“That was creepy, Z,” Reiko commented, and several individuals on the bridge nodded their agreement.
Alex replied, “I deeply appreciate the sentiment, Z,” which drew a smile from the SADE before Alex added, “But your technique needs work, a lot of work.”
Z’s frown was juxtaposed to the laughter around the bridge, but Alex brought everyone quickly back to business, when he sent to the scout ships,
Alex was linking to the controller for the data, but Julien anticipated his needs. “Captain Bellardo’s Trident, the Judgment, is closest, Alex.”
Tatia had chosen to spread the Trident squadron wide, encompassing nearly a quarter of the outer planet’s orbit. She didn’t expect to catch the sphere in this first system, but she was being careful.
The Libran Nua’ll sphere, which had devastated half of the Confederation’s colonies, never stayed longer than twelve years in any one system. In some cases, the sphere moved on within seven years. According to the Ollassa data, the sphere had been gone for nearly six decades.
Lucia Bellardo signaled her controller to take the warship on a course that arced in system. Using the scout ship’s data, Lucia directed the controller to focus on the probe’s present position. The telemetry data revealed it would be a while before she could launch a banisher. At present, the probe was moving through a heavy asteroid field.
Alex said, and Tatia ordered the remainder of the squadron to proceed in system. She left the scout ships on the system’s periphery to facilitate an early warning.
Several days later, the squadron surrounded the sphere’s targeted world.
“Did you want to land, Alex?” Tatia asked, but he shook his head.
“No reason to, Tatia,” Alex said. “I wanted to get close enough to see if we could detect anything about the civilization that might have been lost. But, as usual, there’s nothing left to give us an indication of that.”
“Alex, there is little evidence of a civilization,” Julien said, attempting to mollify his friend. “We can’t identify any significant deposits of ash. It looks like the Nua’ll might have taken an opportunity to collect resources from a planet inhabited only by nonsentient species.”
“I don’t understand why the Nua’ll don’t settle one of these planets. This one seems perfect,” Reiko said.
“The Nua’ll appear to harvest just enough resources to allow the planet to recover in decades or a century,” Svetlana added.
“Perhaps what the Nua’ll require isn’t available to them out here but only from their civilization,” Z reasoned.
“So why come out here like a bunch of prospectors, take what they need to keep going, and move onto the next world?” Reiko asked, continuing to press for an explanation that made sense to her.
“The spheres might be tools of colonization, but not in a manner that we would be comfortable understanding,” Alex said. The bridge crew quieted, waiting. “What if the spheres are like farmers, tilling the land for future habitation? In some systems, like this one, they take what they need for resources to enable them to keep moving. Then, in other systems, like the Confederation colonies, they clear the competing civilizations.”
“This means the Nua’ll are taking the long view. The same as they’ve done with their probes,” Tatia said thoughtfully. “That’s more evidence of an extraordinarily extensive and ancient race.”
“I’d agree,” Alex replied.
Silence lay over the bridge. Hunting the second sphere had seemed like an exercise in the squadron’s favor. They could easily remove an enemy vessel hampered by limited protection. Suddenly, that encounter appeared to be a minor event in what well could become their civilization’s single focus, survival against a great and powerful enemy.
“Considering space is three-dimensional, one can only conclude that the Nua’ll are expanding in every direction. It makes one reconsider the number of spheres and probes that they have launched,” Z said.
“The longer this discussion continues, the scarier it gets,” Renée said. “I’d say let’s pack our bags and move, but it would probably only delay the inevitable. Someday, somewhere, the Nua’ll will come for our worlds.”
“Well said,” Alex replied. “Better we find out who and what we’re dealing with now.”
“In hindsight, the proposals to the other governments to lease our technology so that they might build Tridents, fighters, and scout ships, seems most timely,” Svetlana commented.
“What now, Alex?” Tatia asked.
Alex looked at Julien, who said, “As expected, Alex, we have a significant number of choices.”
Miranda commented, “It was our thought that the prime factor was probe strength, but our dear man has disabused us of that notion with his choice of a moderate-strength signal, which against all probability, turned out to be accurate. Now, we are left to do what my partner loves most …”
“Guessing,” Z said, as if he had a disgusting taste in his mouth.
There were polite chuckles, but no one suggested an alternative.
“We can’t afford to separate the squadron to chase the possibilities,” Reiko insisted. She had her hands on her hips to accentuate her opinion.
“Wouldn’t think of it, Commodore,” Alex replied, chuckling.
“Then narrowing the systems to our next target falls to the scout ships,” Tatia stated.
“Julien, have the SADEs make their six best …” Alex glanced over at Z, as he finished, “guesses. Then get them on their way.”
“Commodore, move the squadron far outside this system in the direction we’ll most likely be heading. I don’t want to sit here,” Tatia ordered. “Z, please transfer the squadron’s destination coordinates to the scout ships that might return before we move again.”
This became the fleet’s routine. Mind-numbing tedium was the order of the day, week after week. The scout ships would search until they found the next system where the Nua’ll had visited. Communication would fly between the squadron and the scout ships, and the fleet would converge on the new location. Then the process would start over again.
At one evening’s meal, after the fleet had started the process again, having arrived at the most recently attacked system, which indicated evidence of a rudimentary civilization burned to ash, the conversation became despondent.
“Another society that we were too late to save,” Reiko lamented.
“I understand that seeing these planets ravaged, as they are, is depressing,” Renée said, sipping on the remains of her aigre, “but I recommend a different view. We are expending weeks to locate the next system and then using that same amount of time again to travel to it, but the Nua’ll spent an average of seven to twelve years in these systems. With every step, we’re closing on our target. Eventually, we will find it. Focus on that.”
Alex stared at his partner, as if she had sprouted a senior officer’s cap on her head. When Renée glanced at him, he grinned, and she smiled in return.
* * *
“I want order on my ships,” Admiral Tripping railed. He was on the bridge of the NT Geoffrey Orlan, with Captain Jonathan Morney at his side and Captains Alphons Jagielski and Bart Fillister on the comm. “My officers are to discipline any conduct unbefitting New Terran naval service. Am I understood?”
When the captains signale
d their affirmatives, Tripping continued his rant. “There is to be zero tolerance for any infractions. I don’t want to hear that a fight started but was quickly broken up without also hearing the individuals were charged and punished. Lock them up if you have to.”
“Admiral, excuse me, these are Omnian-designed ships. They have no means of incarcerating crew,” Jagielski said.
“Impossible,” Tripping replied, his voice rising.
When Morney nodded his head in agreement with Jagielski, Tripping ground out, “Are you telling me that the Omnians don’t have fights?”
“It’s their implants, Admiral,” Jagielski shared. “I’ve spoken to Commodore Shimada and Captain Thompson several times on this subject. The implants allow them to share their thoughts quickly and simply. It makes it nearly impossible to lie or hide behind a false mask, as it were. The troubles between our crew members are created because individuals are hiding behind lies and sly actions meant to get the better of others. The problem is that when the true intent of their words or deeds are exposed, angry reactions develop, and fights break out.”
“What are you suggesting, Captain, that New Terrans should get these Méridien devices installed in their heads? Then we’d play nice with one another?”
“No, Sir,” Jagielski replied. He regretted trying to educate Tripping. It had failed so many times, and he wondered why he kept trying.
“Well, we need to find a way to lock up these regulation breakers, so they understand that there will be discipline on my ships,” Tripping replied, moderating his voice, since he felt he’d made his point.
“We could always keelhaul them, Sir,” Fillister suggested.
“Excellent suggestion, Captain, implement that immediately,” Tripping said and ended the conference.
Immediately, Alphons commed Bart Fillister. “Well, Captain Fillister, I’m ready to introduce your punishment of keelhauling, but I’m having some problems with the details. First, I don’t have any rope to stretch around the midline circumference of my ship, and, second, how do we keep the crew members alive after we throw them out of the airlock and drag them around the ship. Finally, it was my understanding that we were supposed to have some sort of growth on our hull, something about mollusks that were supposed to scrape the hide from those we’re punishing. Where do we get those?”
Alphons was trying hard to keep from laughing. He wanted to hear how his affable friend would reply.
“I thought surely that Admiral Tripping would help me with the details,” Bart replied, trying desperately to contain the mirth that threatened to bubble out of him.
“Well, there’s your first mistake, Bart. You know you’re going to be in hot water with the admiral when he finds out you were toying with him.”
“Probably not,” Bart replied, finally chuckling at the exchange. “I’ll tell him that I read the expression in an ancient naval manual, but I didn’t know what it meant. Claiming ignorance allows our admiral the opportunity to lecture me, which does wonders for his ego.”
“That’s too true,” Jagielski agreed. “About the admiral’s point … are you having many problems on board your ship?”
“Nothing like those on Morney’s, Alphons,” Bart replied. “The rumor mill has it that the chiefs aboard his ship have had to deal with an assortment of issues, including three knife fights, an attempted sexual assault, and an assortment of fistfights that involved five or more crew members, most of them over gambling arguments. How about you?”
“Nothing like that either. Some one-on-one scuffles that the chiefs or crew broke up and some vocal arguments that involved name calling. What’re you doing for punishment besides keelhauling, Bart?”
“Basically, I keep my officers in line, and I let the chiefs handle the issues with the crew. If they write someone up, then they suggest the punishment length, which, in most cases, I’ve approved. Then the crew member spends time in some spare cabins that are aft of the ship near the drive engines. They’re fairly utilitarian.”
“How is their time spent?” Alphons asked.
“They’re told to stay in the cabin, and food and water are brought to them. They have no access to vids, and no one is allowed to talk to them. Isolation seems to do the job. It shows them that absolute boredom can be an ugly thing.”
“I know we’re getting closer to this sphere with every transit,” Alphons replied, “but I don’t think any us, by that I mean New Terrans, thought it would take this long to track it down. The Omnians are a patient lot. I wonder how they’re passing the time.”
* * *
At the time of Alphons’ musing, there was a raucous celebration among a fair bunch of the OS Prosecutor’s crew, who had won a round against the crew of the OS Liberator. There was nothing at stake but the pride of winning.
After the squadron had completed its transit to a stationary point far outside the Ollassa system, Tatia could visualize the long and tedious effort that tracking the sphere would require. Immediately, she recruited Renée, who would understand her intentions.
“We need to start the games, Renée,” Tatia had said that evening in Renée’s cabin.
“The old games for implant training?” Renée asked.
“Yes, I’ll devise a schedule that will maximize off-duty time for the crews, while we wait for a scout ship to notify us of our next location. But, I can’t afford them to sit idle, watching vids from your collection … fabulous as they might be,” Tatia said, quickly adding the last phrase.
Renée chuckled. She knew Tatia wasn’t a fan and probably never would be. More than likely, the admiral, in her off time, could be found participating in hand-to-hand combat exercises with the twins, which they hosted for the more aggressive crew members. Short of Étienne and Alain, there were few that could best her. Tatia often thought one or two of the larger, more agile New Terrans let her win, but the twins assured her that the crew members would consider it a coup if they could defeat the admiral.
“Most of our crews haven’t played the games since they were at the naval academy on Haraken, Tatia. It won’t be like signaling an old algorithm to run.”
“That’s why I’m asking for your thoughts, Renée.”
“Well, if we borrow from Alex’s methods, he wouldn’t try to jump-start the process across the squadron. Instead, he’d do something like get a couple of small groups together and start the game. Once those crew members started having fun, it would spread quickly.”
“What about the officers?” Tatia asked.
“Good point. Tatia, you should start a second game, exclusive to the officers, but make it ship against ship. When the crews on the other ships hear about the games being played on this ship, and that the officers are competing across ships, they’ll want to do the same thing.”
“Should we set up a reward or prize?”
“If I was thinking like Alex, I would say no, Tatia. Winners will have bragging rights. When do you intend to start the games?”
“Who me? I’m the admiral. I have to stay out of things like officer and crew competitions and that sort of rivalry.”
“Ah … now I understand why you wanted to chat.”
“I knew you would,” Tatia replied, grinning, as she exited Renée’s cabin.
The games grew, as Renée predicted. It wasn’t long before Alex and the SADEs thought it was full-scale war between ships.
Teams formed ad hoc during duty time, in preparation for the next contest. The teams had to be equal in number, and the SADEs were kept busy setting up the games and monitoring them.
Franz and his commanding officers constituted a sixth Omnian officer group that competed against the other ships, and his pilots formed their own groups and competed against one another.
As the squadron’s commodore, Reiko was embarrassed to admit that her team frequently lost, and she was often the weak link. Initially, she had been trained to use the implants with the aid of the games. But, her time at Haraken’s naval academy had been demanding, and, soon after g
raduation she was tasked to be the captain of the Haraken’s first sting ship, the Tanaka. She did note that by participating in these games, she learned more about her implant’s capabilities than she had in many years.
The twins, Étienne and Alain, did their part to relieve the boredom. Their demonstrations, which usually consisted of the twins sharpening their escort skills, often drew admirers from the crew, and they had expanded their efforts to include the onlookers.
Now, the twins took advantage of the time the fleet sat stationary, waiting for a report, to jump from ship to ship to put on their demonstrations and start small classes. Their training techniques caught on, and soon the twins were kept extraordinarily busy.
Alex ordered vid cams mounted in all of the Omnian ships’ training areas. Julien programmed them so that only Étienne or Alain could activate them. It allowed the twins to monitor the classes across the Omnian ships, and offer real-time critiques.
-18-
Home Worlds II
The ratification of the Omnian agreement was a fait accompli for Presidents Lechaux and Grumley. Their governments, having only the one system, had allowed each populace to witness the immense explosion of the relatively diminutive probe.
Previous to these events, the fight against the Libran sphere, which was viewed by many New Terrans, at the time, courtesy of Julien’s vids, was more than two decades ago. There was little to suggest that there was anything more to fear from whoever had created the mysterious sphere. However, the announcement that the Nua’ll had been monitoring systems throughout the galaxy, including theirs, and the detonation of the probes changed all that for New Terra and Haraken.
In a flood of concern for their populaces’ safety, the agreements were ratified by New Terra and Haraken and sent to Captain Cordelia, who had been authorized by Alex to accept them. Her approval, once received by the respective presidents, provided the means to unlock the data vaults that Terese and Maria had carried with them from Omnia.
