Jenetta knew that she couldn't leave such a powerful warship, even a seriously damaged one, at her back. She was about to order the Vordoth to swing around for another torpedo run when an immense secondary explosion ripped through the massive ship. The explosive damage from the Vordoth's torpedoes might have fortuitously reached an armory, or perhaps an antimatter container or nuclear fusion plant had been damaged during the carnage. But whatever the cause, the great ship suddenly erupted into a gigantic ball of plasma that burned as hot as a sun for several seconds. The faces of the crew on the Vordoth's bridge were wide-eyed and stunned as they witnessed the death of the warship and all aboard. Jenetta forced her own features to remain completely impassive. She wanted the crew to see only the mask of calm professional resolve that she felt a senior military person should wear during battle.
As broken and twisted pieces of the cruiser tumbled slowly away from the explosion area, Jenetta forced her attention from the spectacle on the small viewscreen mounted on the left arm of her chair, to the front viewscreen where the fight ahead was looming ever larger as the Vordoth raced on.
Nearing the four-ship convoy, the Vordoth passed the wreckage of two warships with unusual configurations. Most Space Command ships, and the Raider ships that Jen had seen, could almost be considered ‘boxy' by comparison. Those two small ships appeared to have been designed with specific aerodynamic considerations in mind. The sleek design allowed for much less useful interior space.
"Nordakian stealth destroyers," Gloria said. "The Raiders must have surprised them, like we surprised the Raiders."
"Not completely," Jenetta said. "I see what looks like dozens of fighter hulls floating near the destroyers."
"Ah, yes," said Charley, who had returned to the bridge just in time to see the destruction of the mother ship. "The Nordakian destroyers got a little satisfaction of their own before their guns were silenced."
"How long has the Galactic Alliance permitted GA worlds to operate their own warships outside their home system?"
"About six years, Captain," Gloria replied. "Every system can maintain a home guard force of up to twenty warships. Until the situation with the Raiders is resolved, they can operate up to fifteen of those warships as convey escorts or for diplomatic transport."
"Com, signal the Jouraklihest. Inform them that we've destroyed the cruiser mother ship and that we're coming to help with the fighters. Tell them not to fire on us."
"Aye, Captain." After sending the message the com operator said, "Message received and acknowledged. They witnessed the explosion of the cruiser and convey their appreciation."
"Helm, slow to Plus-10 as we reach the battle and take us directly under the center of the action, then turn to starboard and take us in a wide circle around the perimeter. We don't want to give those fighters a stationary target on which to lock their weapons."
"Aye, Captain."
As the Vordoth approached the battle, several fighters broke off their attack and turned to face the new threat. Anxious gunners aboard the Vordoth opened fire much too early, causing Gunny to bellow into his headset to hold their fire. It seemed that the ship was almost on top of the action when he finally gave the order to open up, and blips on the weapons fire control screens immediately began to wink out. The Vordoth's fifty-six phased array lasers unleashed a deadly barrage as the newly trained gunners locked onto their targets and fired. Coherent beams of light punched through cockpits, killing the pilots or destroying their control systems. Some ships exploded in small fire balls as beams of energy sliced through fuel lines or tanks. The other attackers appeared to panic as they witnessed their comrades being quickly destroyed, and forgot all about the convoy of freighters. But their uncoordinated attack on the Vordoth was doomed to failure before it began.
Passing beneath the battle area had given the gunners on both larboard and starboard sides an opportunity to fire at Raider fighters, and the first pass through dispatched almost half the small craft. After passing all ships, the helmsman turned the freighter to starboard and took the Vordoth in a clockwise circular path around the battle area. The starboard gunners picked off those fighters that continued the fight, while the larboard gunners concentrated on those that broke off engagement and tried to flee.
The Vordoth came to a stop relative to the convoy ships once the shooting ended, and Jenetta breathed a silent sigh of relief. She'd taken a tremendous risk, but it had apparently paid off. The cruiser had died without getting a torpedo off and the fighters either never had missiles, or they'd exhausted their supply before the Vordoth arrived. The fighters had targeted the Vordoth with their laser weapons, but the shooting was over almost before it began. She hoped casualties aboard ship were light.
Only now that the battle was over did Jenetta realize that one of the ships she originally thought to be a single hulled transport was actually another Nordakian destroyer. It had a more conventional configuration than the stealth destroyers, and probably much more protective armor. Still, it was so thoroughly damaged from missiles and energy weapons that she doubted it would ever move again under its own power. Huge gaping holes peppered the hull. It would be remarkable if an appreciable number of crewmembers had survived.
"Collect damage reports, please," Jenetta said to the com operator.
"Reports are coming in now, Captain. No severe damage has been reported. We suffered a few hits, but all are in non-essential areas and will be easily repaired."
Jenetta could hardly believe their good fortune. "Really? That's astonishing; and wonderful!" Realizing that she was letting emotion show thorough, she forced herself to again assume a stoic façade. "Can you get me the officer in charge of the Jouraklihest?"
The com operator nodded and a minute later announced that he had the captain of the Jouraklihest on a video link.
Jenetta stood in front of her command chair, tugged on her tunic to straighten it and said, "Put it on the forward monitor, please."
The large viewscreen immediately lit up with the image of the Nordakian captain. Humanlike in appearance, the captain had a wide, flattened nose, but no hair or external ears.
Jenetta said, "Greetings, I'm Captain Jenetta Carver of the Vordoth."
"I'm Captain Phuth Yuixotical. Uh— your uniform appears to be GSC, Captain?"
"You're very observant, Captain. It's true that I'm a Galactic Space Command officer."
"But you're on a commercial freighter? Or at least what I understood to be a commercial freighter from your communication messages." Glancing down at a small monitor mount-ed on the right arm of his chair, Captain Yuixotical said, "It looks more like a light destroyer now that I look at the external configuration more closely. Is it a decoy gun-ship?"
"No, it's a freighter, as you first understood. We detached from our cargo four and a half billion kilometers from here in order to come to your assistance. What's your condition, Captain?"
"We have a great deal of serious damage from the attack. But wait— I'm forgetting my manners; I haven't thanked you for saving my ships and people. Without you, we would have been lost. On behalf of myself, my crews, and all the peoples of Nordakia and Obotymot, I thank you and your brave crew."
"We're glad that we were close enough to assist. We were attacked ourselves, just a few days ago."
"Yet you obviously were successful in defending yourselves."
"Yes, but it was a much smaller force; just a destroyer mother-ship and half a dozen fighters."
"And you defeated them all by yourself?"
"Yes, but as you've observed, we're carrying a lot of firepower. They never knew what hit them."
"We had a three destroyer escort, and yet without your one small ship we would have been lost. I suspect that your GSC training made the difference." Sitting up a little straighter, Captain Yuixotical stated proudly, "Our planet presently has two dozen cadets attending the academies on Earth."
"They'll get the best education available, Captain. I'm a graduate of NHSA, class of ‘56. Do you
need further assistance from us?"
"Yes, most certainly! My early damage reports indicate that one freighter is incapable of propulsion, another will only be able to achieve fifty-five percent power, and this ship has extensive damage to our sensors and life support systems. It will take a week or more just to get my convoy marginally operational again. We'll need protection until then."
"Then I suggest that you come over to the Vordoth so that we might discuss it. While we talk, we'll retrieve our cargo section and bring it back here."
"Very well, Captain Carver. I'll notify the other captains to join me there. Where should we dock?"
Jenetta turned to Charley, who said, "Bay Two has sufficient room for three Nordakian tugs, Captain."
Turning back to the viewscreen Jenetta said, "My chief engineer tells me that we can accommodate your three tugs in Bay Two."
"Thank you, Captain. We'll be there shortly."
The viewscreen reverted to an exterior view and Jenetta turned to Gloria. "They look a lot like us."
"When they wish to."
"What do you mean?"
"Just that the Nordakian captain expected to be talking to a Terran, so he prepared himself."
"They can change their shape?"
"Not as far as I know."
"Don't keep me guessing, Gloria," Jenetta said grinning. "What did you mean when you said he prepared himself?"
"If they have the ability to alter their shape, I've never heard about it. And I'm unsure if their physiology is as close to ours as it appears, but I do know that they can change their chromaticity at will, like some of the species on Earth such as the cuttlefish or chameleons that use their coloration abilities for warnings or stealthy hunting."
"Really? That's interesting."
"I understand their normal color is a medium shade of aqua, and they can only maintain an adopted color while awake. The females are supposed to be much lighter in shade than the males, but any of them can appear however light or dark they wish while awake. When they're attempting to be sociable with Terrans, they try to simulate the coloration of their host or the emissary. When they wish to openly show displeasure, without actually saying something, they adopt their true color. And if you get one riled or excited, his colors will vary. They can ripple across his form either slowly, almost ponderously, or so quickly that you almost get a headache from trying to focus on what appears to be a wildly gyrating pinata. I've heard that when they get angry, their color flashes mostly in shades of red or orange. Sort of like a warning to stay away. If they're excited, happy excited, the colors lean more towards blues and greens."
"That's even more interesting. Talk about wearing your heart on your sleeve. Do you know what they eat and drink?"
"Not offhand. I'll check the computer, Captain."
"Thank you, Lieutenant. Join me in Bay Two after you arrange for the food with Anthony."
"Aye, Captain."
Jenetta walked to the com station and asked the operator to put her on ship-wide speakers.
Handing her a tiny wireless microphone, he said, "Go ahead, Captain."
"This is the Captain speaking. We've destroyed a Raider medium cruiser and thirty-four fighters, while not suffering a single casualty or taking a single serious hit ourselves. Very well done, everyone." She paused for a few seconds as the bridge, and probably every other section of the ship, erupted in celebration. "The captains of the convoy freighters are coming aboard shortly to discuss their situation. Their ships have suffered extensive damage and we'll have to decide how best to get them operational again. Our visitors are Nordakians and I'm sure that you'll be on your best behavior in front of our guests. Captain out."
Jenetta walked quickly to her quarters to put on a fresh tunic and brush her hair, and was waiting in the bay observation area near the airlock when the three tugs arrived. She was eagerly looking forward to her first meeting with members of the alien race. Gloria joined her as the outer doors closed and sealed, and air pressure in the bay began to rise.
"Anthony is trying to synthesize some Nordakian beverages and snacks," Gloria said. "Here's a translator, Captain."
Jenetta accepted the small flat box that could be worn on a belt or hooked onto a uniform button. Capable of translating dozens of different languages, the translator box was already set for Dakis, the principal language on Nordakia.
"Thank you, Gloria," she said as she held the device over her cupped left hand and depressed the button on the back that would both activate the device and release the small plastic receiver from its storage cavity.
"You're welcome, Captain."
"It's Jen," she said, as she fit the tiny wireless receiver into her left ear.
"Yes, Captain."
Jenetta groaned silently. ‘Maybe it's just something that she has to work through,' she thought.
As the air pressure gauges moved into the green, the locking mechanism in the airtight doors to the bay began to grumble loudly. The doors parted to the accompaniment of a slight whooshing sound as pressure instantly equalized between the bay and the corridor. Sliding in and up, the hatchway cover on each of the tugs opened to reveal an airlock chamber. A ramp quickly extended down to the flight bay deck from the opening as the inside airlock doors parted. Jenetta masked her surprise upon seeing the height of the aliens emerging from each of the ships. Nothing in her conversation with Captain Yuixotical had disclosed the fact that most Nordakian males were over seven-foot tall. In most other respects, the Nordakians didn't appear all that different from Terrans. In fact, each of the emerging aliens exhibited a light skin color close to Jenetta's.
Following introductions, Jenetta led the way to the lift. Gunny Rondell would escort the pilots to the crew mess where beverages and snacks were available.
Although Amer had become the defacto standard language in Galactic Alliance space, the development of translation devices that almost rivaled the abilities of a live translator had obviated the need for everyone to speak or understand it. The nuances of body language and facial expressions still dictated that live translators always be used in diplomatic and business negotiations, as well as for other formal discussions. Of the three captains, only Captain Yuixotical spoke Amer well enough to forego a translation device. Since the red and gold uniform tunics of the Nordakian Merchant Service offered neither buttons nor belts, the other two captains wore a translation device suspended from cords around their neck, with a connecting earpiece placed in one of their auditory orifices.
As the lift rose towards the bridge deck, Captain Phuth Yuixotical said to Jenetta, "I know that earthlings are normally shorter than most of our race, but you seem smaller than other Terrans I've met, most of whom have been GSC officers. I don't mean any offense."
"You're correct, Captain. I am shorter than most GSC officers; and no offense is taken. I think that many senior GSC officers are taller because some Terrans are of the opinion that physical height is important in order to command respect. There was even an infamous general on Earth who historians have so mocked because of his physical stature that some people believe him to have been a dwarf. Standing five-foot seven-inches, Napoleon Bonaparte was a brilliant tactician who conquered vast territories before being defeated himself and exiled. He was about three-inches taller than myself. Perhaps things have changed during the past four and half centuries because I can honestly say that I've had few problems because of my height since I received my commission."
"Forgive me also for saying, but you don't look as old as your years. I would never have guessed that you graduated from NHSA more than ten years ago."
Smiling, Jenetta said, "A woman is never offended when you tell her that she looks younger than her years; even ship captains." She had decided that this was not the appropriate time to tell the Nordakian that she was just an ensign who had slept for more than ten years in a stasis bed. Better that he simply believe she availed herself of the medical techniques employed to make people appear younger.
As the group e
ntered the bridge on their way to the captain's briefing room, someone said loudly, "Captain on the bridge," and everyone came to rigid attention. Jenetta said, "As you were," and continued leading the way to her office.
Once inside, Captain Yuixotical said, "I take advantage of every opportunity to practice my Amer, but I realize that I still make errors. Perhaps I misunderstood the facts in our earlier conversation. I thought you said this wasn't a GSC ship?"
"It isn't."
"No? Forgive me, but it's more than a bit unusual to find military protocol onboard a commercial freighter. If you didn't tell me otherwise, I'd guess that this was an undercover operation of GSC, sent here to surreptitiously fight the Raiders that have been plaguing this area of space by acting as a decoy. But don't worry, your secret is safe with us, Captain. If you wish, none of my people will tell anyone of the freighter, with the firepower of a light destroyer, which drops its cargo and comes to the rescue of other freighters."
Jenetta was trying to determine how best to set the record straight while not offending the Nordakians when the door chime sounded. "Come," she said, and the computer opened the briefing room doors.
Anthony entered carrying a tray of beverage carafes and mugs, followed by another crewman carrying a tray of snacks. As they set the trays down on the desk, Anthony gestured towards the four hot beverage decanters and said, "Coffee, Tea, Rathiger, and Vesipoa, Captain."
"Thank you, Anthony. Dismissed."
"Aye, Captain."
After preparing their beverages, the captains and Gloria took their seats around Jenetta's desk. Only two of the freighter captains selected a snack.
"Excellent Vesipoa, Captain, and the Frincizi cakes smell delicious," Captain Yuixotical said, "but unfortunately I have to watch my weight now that I'm getting older."
"You're the first Nordakians I've met, but you look like a young man to me, Captain." The other Nordakian captains, both of whom appeared considerably older, smiled and exchanged knowing glances.
"I'm about thirty-five, in Terran years, but my level of activity has dropped off somewhat in recent years, and it would be all too easy to lose control of my waistline."
A Galaxy Unknown Page 16
