by Andrew Beery
***
“Mr. Zimmerman, drop a cloaked sensor probe off their port side. Passive scans only. Shadow them and report directly back to weapons.”
Ken settled back in his command chair.
“Helm, plot a microjump to put us half a light sec off their bow. I want full shield rotation in place within a millisecond of our jump. Coordinate with weapons. Weapons… I want a full spread of railguns and plasma weapons… hit them with everything we’ve got before they know we’re here. Helm, once weapons has confirmed they’ve unloaded the kitchen sink, I want a microjump three light seconds into the elliptic.”
The various stations on the bridge of the GCP’s flagship rushed to carry out his orders. Within seconds Engineering, Weapons and Navigation were acknowledging with a ‘Ready’ status.
“Keep it frosty ladies and gentleman,” Ken said as he used his right hand to tweak the 3 dimensional holographic display hovering directly in front of him. “Mr. Kelsey, you control the board. Engage the enemy.”
“Acknowledged Captain. I control the board.” The helmsman focused his entire attention on the navigation panel in front of him. “Engaging microjump in three, two, one… jumping!”
Chapter Four – Proxy War
The noise was defending. Smoke filled the MS Tsunami’s bridge from a handful of small electrical fires that started when various power conduits suddenly overloaded. Somewhere in the distance there was the sound of metal buckling – the vibrations perceptible through the floor plating. Captain Nicked-Tail’s Uruk-enhanced reflexes and synthetic android host held fast to an arm rail as the dreadnought’s massive frame shook under the concentrated bombardment of some as-yet-unseen attacker. Most of the bridge crew was not as fortunate. They had never heard of the Master race known as the Uruk nor did they share his enhancements.
Nicked-tail yelled over the mounting din of emergency klaxons and fire suppression systems kicking in. “Weapons Station! Get me a target lock and return fire!”
“Sensors are offline!” Someone, not the normal weapons officer, answered with a pained grunt.
Turning, Nicked-tail barked at his navigator, “Navigation, jump us ten light minutes - Any direction!”
“Jump drive is offline” Lieutenant Redfish answered quickly as his Suhtian host struggled to reroute burned out control relays.
“Then launch all fighters!” Nicked-Tail screamed over the bedlam. “I want a point defense perimeter and full sensor feeds… FIND ME A TARGET!”
The bridge rolled as another kinetic round from their enemy’s rail guns slammed into the dreadnought’s diminished shields.
“We have a target” Commander Herringbone yelled from the weapon’s station he had just taken over. The lieutenant who had been manning the station was a casualty of the first of the kinetic rounds.
“FIRE ALL WEAPONS!” Nicked-Tail ordered.
“Firing all weapons” the First Officer confirmed. “…Target has disappeared.”
Nicked-Tail turned to face the weapon’s station. “Confirm ‘weapons’… the enemy has been destroyed?”
“Negative Sir,” Commander Herringbone answered. “The enemy vessel microjumped to an unknown position outside of weapon’s range. Our fighters are triangulating a new position now.”
“Limited jump capability back online,” Lieutenant Redfish reported.
“WE HAVE A TARGET LOCK,” Herringbone shouted at nearly the same time. He fired the MS Tsunami’s massive particle beam weapons. He hadn’t waited for the order to fire but Nicked-Tail was not above encouraging initiative.
Sixteen beams each packing over 10^16 peta-joules worth of stored energy lashed out at 98 percent the speed of light towards the attacking craft. The weapons were a major enhancement being deployed for the first time on the Tsunami. Only Nicked-Tail knew they were a gift from the Syndicate’s secret benefactor, the Uruk.
The beam’s reached their target at about the same time the GCP vessel microjumped. It was impossible to tell if they had any effect. At about the same time the bridge bucked wildly as the shields took another hammering from their opponent.
“Jump us to their last know position and tell the fighters to follow,” Nicked-Tail ordered.
“Jumping now,” Lieutenant Redfish acknowledged.
“Do we have an ID on that Coalition ship?”
Commander Herringbone checked his board. “Sir it looks like the GCP Yorktown but with a greatly enhanced power signature... INCOMING FIRE!”
“Evasive…” Captain Nicked-Tail started to yell but was interrupted by a bone-jarring crash as the floor to the bridge literally buckled under the force of the latest blast from the Yorktown. The gravity plating went offline and even the emergency lights flickered.
“HULL BREECH! DECKS TWO THROUGH TWELVE!” The First Officer yelled. “Fire suppression systems offline, weapons offline, the mains are…” Herringbone paused as if he could not believe what he was seeing. “Sir, the mains are gone… literally gone! We are running on backup fusion generators only.”
***
“That’s done it, Sir,” Chief Wroblewski reported. “The dreadnought is dead in space.”
‘And not a moment too soon,’ Ken Kirkland thought. “That last volley they threw at us hit us pretty hard… what’s our status?”
Commander Trifa checked his board. The Hupenstanii First Officer glanced up at his commanding officer. “Captain, we lost over thirty percent of our shield emitters. They are regenerating now but I would not recommend letting them hit us too many times like that.”
Ken could swear the green kangaroo was grinning. Hoppers had a singular sense of humor that expressed itself most often when they were nervous. “Recommendation noted number one,” Ken replied.
“Engineering… this is the Captain.”
“Thais here, Sir,” came the prompt reply.
“Commander, how’s the containment field looking on that new power system?”
“Rock solid sir. The emergency hyperfield SCRAM circuits didn’t even flicker.”
“Good news,” Ken acknowledged. The hyperfield SCRAM circuits were designed to eject the singularity containment system or SCS via a self-contained microjump engine in the event the resident AI detected an imminent breech. The idea was to protect the ship from literally going nova in the event of a major systems failure. “Thais… I want an analysis of that new weapon’s system they hit us with. Coordinate with the First Officer as soon as you can.”
“Aye sir,” she acknowledged.
“Captain, we have several very angry squadrons of Modos fighter aircraft jumping in from their previous position. Permission to launch the reserve wings to engage,” Trifa asked.
“Permission granted. Tell them to stay well away from that Dreadnought. She may be hurt but I’m betting she still has some serious teeth.”
***
“The Modos fighters in the vicinity of the planet are bugging out,” Commander Nelson cheered as the last of the small enemy ships flashed out of local space. The Yorktown’s CAG did not normally fly with his squadrons but he had wanted to see these new fighters that the Modos were using with his own eyes.
“Everyone except Lynch and McCoy, form around the Dakota. Lynch, I want you and McCoy to head over towards that orbital platform and scan for life signs.”
“Acknowledged Big Bird… Grey Goose and Mad Man are heading over to the platform now,” Lieutenant Lynch a.k.a. ‘Mad Man’ echoed back.
The twenty four GCP Fighter aircraft split into two groups with the larger group heading towards the Dakota Combat Shuttle.
***
“Admiral, we are being hailed by the Head Archivist on Agur Prime,” Lieutenant Cochrane announced as the last of the Modos fighters retreated.
The image of the elder Agur appeared in holographic form floating before Cat. She raised an eyebrow and looked at Ben. His expression matched hers. The communication link with the Agur was simple radio. A holographic image should not have been possible and yet somehow the Agur had acc
essed their holo-emitters. It was yet another in a growing series of mysteries.
Head Archivist Sna’st looked about the cabin of the Dakoda as if confirming something he had already assumed. After his quick purousal he inclined his head toward Cat, “greetings Admiral Kimbridge. Are you and Commander Ben, who we understand has your father’s engrams, ready to meet with our council of elders?”
Cat looked at Ben who nodded back. “Send us the coordinates and we will land our shuttle,” Cat answered.
“No need Admiral,” the Agur elder replied. “We will arrange for your transport.”
A hum filled the air and Cat felt the hairs on her arms stand up. One moment she and Ben were in the confining space of the shuttle’s bridge… the next they were standing in a sand-colored room with a conference table and chairs that could have come from any office on Earth.
“Nice trick,” Ben said while looking around their surroundings. “My prosthetic optics picked up a 16 nanometer red shift just prior to translocation.”
“I suspect we didn’t move at all,” Cat observed while feeling the top of the granite table with her fingers.
“You mean we’re still on the Dakota?”
“No. I think we are really in this room… but I suspect that our hosts have a very ‘nuanced’ control over temporal dynamics. They moved us thru time while keeping us stationary in space. This room and the planet it is on, like all things, is in constant state of motion. They simply moved us in time until our absolute position corresponded with the position of this room.”
Cat looked around the room carefully utilizing her enhanced senses. Whatever else the Agur were… they were not the simple race of harmless historians she had supposed them to be. The technology they had just demonstrated far and away exceeded the best the GCP had to offer and might even be on par with the Heshe.
A wall near the far end of the room split down the middle to reveal a door. A short, two-legged creature that looked for all the world like a shell-less turtle wearing a grey robe walked into the room. Two others, dressed in a similar fashion followed a short distance behind him.
“You are, of course, correct Admiral Kimbridge,” the lead Agur said in a raspy but perfectly clear and well-articulated English. “I am Sna’st, the Head Archivist of this world. Greetings... and well-met Blessed of the Creator.”
“Well-met, Blessed of the Creator,” Cat returned with a smile and a respectful bow.
“The others will be joining us shortly but I wanted to take a moment and explain to you what was about to happen. I’ve found that such discussions tend to diminish the chance of later un-pleasantries.”
Cat look at Ben and then back at the elder Agur. “By the others I’m assuming you mean our friends from the Modos Syndicate?”
“Not precisely”
“The Uruk then… or their proxies… if we are being precise,” Cat concluded.
Rather than answer Sna’st waved a four-fingered hand over the sand-colored conference table. A three dimensional sphere floated up from the table’s surface. As they watched the surface of the sphere changed. Images appeared.
“Many millennia ago,” the elder Agur began, “a race evolved on a small world near the galactic core of the Milky Way. Not many worlds develop life in such regions as the cores of galaxies are dangerous places. But in this case, the Uncreated Creator saw fit to allow it to happen. Their world fought against the very universe to survive. Nearby pulsars and stellar novae forever threatened their world with sterilization… and yet despite it all – they survived. Perhaps those challenges harden the Uruk. Perhaps they made them into the race they became: forever struggling to dominate their environment. Whatever the cause, the Uruk sought to subjugate or destroy anything that could potentially threaten their existence.
“Of all the billions of worlds in this galaxy; and of all the billions of galaxies in this universe; this race alone would develop the potential and ultimately desire to destroy not just one universe but two.” Sna’st paused to look at Cat and Ben. “Admiral, you have correctly deduced that my people are masters of time. We are, in fact, the self-appointed ‘guardians of forever.’ We have seen the future death of all that is… and we are determined to guide our universe down a path that prevents that outcome. The conflict between the Uruk and their Heshe brothers ultimately brings about the destruction of a billion billion intelligent races in this universe as well as the one you call the betaverse.
“We are proposing, and in fact have proposed, a proxy war between champions. The Galactic Coalition and the Modos Syndicate. Both the Uruk and the Heshe have agreed… with certain restrictions. If you in turn agree, you will lead the Coalition forces while a member of the Syndicate will lead their forces. This is a winner-take-all contest. Should the GCP lose… the Uruk will control the fate of both universes and the Heshe will self-exile. Should you win the Uruk will do the same.”
Cat leaned forward with her hands on the table and stared at the spherical display that was showing the destruction of not one but two universes. A hyperfield conduit destabilized the cosmological brane barriers between the universes. For a brief moment the two seemed to stabilize into one much larger universe but then the subtle differences in cosmological constants began to unweave the fabric of space-time and the two universes shattered and dissolved into higher dimensional space.
“What happens if I refuse?” Cat asked knowing full-well that she would not.
Head Archivist Sna’st shook his head in a very human gesture. “Then the GCP loses its best chance of emerging victorious.”
Chapter Five – Downgrades
“So,” Cat said, “What are these restrictions that the Heshe and Uruk have agreed to?”
“Yes,” Captain Nicked-Tail echoed bitterly. He and his First Officer, Commander Herringbone, stood on the opposite side of the table from Cat and Ben. The animosity in their glare as they looked at their mortal enemies across that table was palpable. They too had been temporally translocated to the room ten minutes earlier. The Agur had needed to disable the Modos’ personal weapons and then erect an invisible force field between the two groups when it became apparent that the Modos were of a ‘shoot first and ask questions later’ mindset. The following discussion had been heated… especially when Nicked-Tail’s First Officer had learned that his Captain was in fact an augmented Uruk agent. The two had put that question aside for the moment as both conceded a common foe in the GCP.
Sna’st sat at the head of the table. He indicated the seats. Cat and Ben took the opportunity to sit. After a moment, and with great reluctance, the two Modos joined them in sitting as well.
Sna’st, looking like a withered old turtle, cleared his throat. His voice held a deep raspy and almost tired timbre. Cat found she had to strain to hear him even with her Heshe augmentations. It was at that moment she realized she no longer had access to many of Heshe enhancements.
“I’m sure several of you are even now becoming aware that several of the support systems put in place by the Uruk,” Sna’st nodded towards Nicked-Tail, “…as well as the Heshe,” this time he nodded towards Cat, “have been disabled.” The two officers looked at each other as if to confirm what had been said. Cat could see the latent anger sitting just below the surface of Nicked-Tail’s passive expression.
“This is the first and most important restriction,” Sna’st continued. “The decision will be determined by each champion’s ingenuity and resolve… not by the technology gifted to them by their respective benefactors.”
Cat leaned forward in her seat. “Your statement implies that there will be other restrictions as well.”
“Indeed, Admiral. There are four other conditions that have been agreed to. You will each have access to a small number of your ships at your disposal. You will each have an objective that must be met in order to achieve victory for your side. You will be sent far from here where your conflict will not harm others. Finally, none of the combatants will ever return to the home they know.”
; For several moments there was absolute silence in the room as each side digested what had been said.
“And what is the ultimate objective that determines a winner?” Commander Ben asked softly. It was the question all had been wondering.
Sna’st smiled. “Your side wins if the planet you know as Earth… survives.”
***
Three days later Cat stood on the bridge of the Yorktown. The forward view screen showed the Mador, the Exeter and the newly re-commissioned Relentless in orbit around Agur Prime. Everywhere around her technicians were busy tearing out perfectly functional Heshe systems and replacing them with their less capable human developed equivalents. The result was a mishmash of seemingly random cables and power conduits strewn over the deck plating as well as jerry-rigged control systems. The sight of her beautiful ship undergoing this brutal transformation was heartbreaking. However, the work was necessary to comply with the terms of the Agur agreement. Major Heshe systems had to be disabled or replaced. She, herself, had not been immune from this requirement. Her Heshe nanites had been removed and her internal Heshe encounter unit disabled. Her body now contained a collection of human developed medical nanites that could handle minor injuries and automatically place her in a pseudo-stasis should they detect a condition beyond their abilities.
As she looked around her disheveled bridge, she imagined the same scene was being played out on each of the other ships that were to be a part of the upcoming trial. The ships were being retrofitted with old-style human designed AI computer systems. Their Heshe nanite repair systems were being replaced with the far cruder and less effective human counterparts.
Ben’s human derived AI that coexisted with his D’rlalu organic brain was being used to format command and control engrams. This at least explained why the Agur had insisted her father… or more correctly the AI fashioned after her father… be brought to the initial meeting where they learned about the Agur’s plan to save the universes from destruction.
“Somewhat depressing,” a deep voice said from behind her.
