by S. H. Jucha
Afterwards, Tatia and Reiko sat on grav chairs and consumed a hot meal, courtesy of the freighter crew who’d delivered the supplies. Their eyes roamed their surroundings as they ate, taking in the console with its diminutive Chistorlans, the rows of cases, and the Toralians, who sat on the other grav pallet.
While everyone finished eating and using the hastily arranged facilities, Chistorlans hauled in materials and constructed a table suitable in height to the Omnians and the Toralians. After the makeshift structure was assembled, Miranda and Julien released three seats’ nanites connections on the pallets and moved them to the table.
“Let’s start,” Alex said, and the SADEs repeated the request to the other races.
Three Omnians took chairs, and the three Toralians and three Chistorlans sat on stools. Julien and Miranda took up positions to enable translations.
Alex started with introductions. Afterwards, he reviewed the present agreement with the Chistorlan monarch and the efforts aboard the Toralians’ ships.
“We’ve added more techs,” Tittra said. “The first pairing of the remaining entities is underway.” He spoke quietly, aware that the Omnian audience now numbered five, and the two admirals were as dissatisfied with his announcement as Alex had been.
“The pairing process to produce a final entity is expected to take a maximum of one hundred and eight days,” Alex explained to his admirals. “Julien and Miriam agree that we’ve less than eight days after the final pairing to hook up the Chistorlans’ adversary to Artifice.”
Tatia wanted to ask why, but she heeded her own advice to Reiko to listen and learn.
“When you say hook up, Alex, I take that to mean that one of these cases must be delivered to the Toral surface and connected by cable to one of Artifice’s antennas,” Reiko said.
“That’s correct,” Alex replied, “and we’ve about a hundred days or less to find a means of doing just that.”
Miranda searched the cavern’s structure. It’d been braced by broad, metal trusses that arched from the floor to the cavern’s roof. She walked over to the nearest truss, which was behind the operations console, and reached out a hand to grip it. The truss network became her antenna, which tremendously boosted her comm signal.
Linking to Alex, Miranda sent,
Alex held up a finger to interrupt a question from Sargut, and Julien translated the motion to the commander.
Alex addressed Sargut, and said, “The SADEs have cleared Sugatar’s battleship of Artifice’s code. They’ll be finished with Taralum’s ship soon.”
It was mixed news to the Toralians. It was a step in the right direction for the race, but against Artifice, conditions were all or nothing. There were no half measures.
“Sargut, you might need to take a trip to the Dark Whispers,” Alex said. “Miranda can transport you to the cavern, and I can have a traveler deliver you to your ship.”
Sargut heard the translation and asked, “Tormheth?”
Alex nodded and held up his hand to return to Z.
“Alex,” Sargut interrupted, “our planning here is critical. May I communicate to your Omnians?”
* * *
Franz was in a quandary.
The sister aboard Sugatar’s ship had communicated the commander’s concerns to the Omnians about the reports he was receiving from Sargut’s vessel. Miriam, Luther, and Z were busy with the installation of the sister on Taralum’s bridge, and Sargut was requesting an Omnian personally observe the problem that was developing on the Dark Whispers. So, Franz was elected.
After landing aboard Sargut’s battleship, Franz ran to the bridge. He was confronted with a heated argument in progress.
Tormheth and several crew members, two of them officers, were faced off against twice as many officers and crew. However, Tormheth and his group carried lethal-looking metal bars, which they used to constantly menace the opposing group.
Franz’s arrival caught the attention of those backed against the bridge consoles, which caused Tormheth’s group to halt their yelling and look behind them. Franz held up his hands, hoping to communicate that he didn’t want any trouble. He could guess the heart of the matter. It would be Miriamelle.
Sliding along the edge of Tormheth’s crew members, Franz sought to join the sister’s defenders. One of the belligerent crew members whistled his anger and poked his bar into Franz’s stomach. It was a ridiculous move against a heavy worlder. Franz’s hard stomach muscles abruptly negated the metal bar’s impact. The Toralian’s eyes widened in fear, and Franz waggled a finger in the crew member’s face, choosing to add a warning growl.
Franz reached the defenders’ side, without any further confrontation. The bridge crew made room for him, and Franz chose to position himself in front of Miriamelle’s box. He leaned his rear end against the console and folded his arms. Bridge officers on either side of Franz patted his shoulders in appreciation of his timely arrival.
Franz sent in reply.
Miriamelle replied.
The fractious confrontation escalated. Tormheth’s group edged closer, thrusting their weapons at the bridge crew.
Miriamelle attempted to keep Franz apprised of the back and forth between the arguing groups, but he requested her silence. It wasn’t the shouting and whistling that Franz was focused on. He was watching body language. It didn’t matter that they were aliens. Aggression had a universal shape, and he was watching for the moment it became action.
“This is Commander Sargut,” the entire bridge audience heard. “I’m in crucial talks with two races that might free us from Artifice’s tyranny. Yet, I receive messages from the commander, who I left in charge, that there’s a disturbance aboard my ship. Senior bridge officer, report.”
Tormheth threatened that officer by pointing his metal rod at the individual, and Franz stepped forward, placing himself between the two.
“I said, report,” Sargut repeated harshly.
“Subcommander Tormheth, with other crew members, is trying to take over the bridge, Commander. We’re resisting, but they’ve brought weapons with them,” the officer reported. “They intend to destroy Miriamelle’s box. Admiral Cohen has joined us.”
The news that Franz Cohen was present greatly relieved Sargut, which gave him an idea.
Sargut saw Miranda tap her temple, as she said, “Franz.” He nodded, and Miranda communicated a private message that reached only the admiral.
“Admiral Cohen, are you averse to a little violence?” Sargut asked.
The Toralians were momentarily confused that the senior commander was addressing the Omnian in their language.
“Not at all, Commander,” Franz said loudly, flexing his fingers into fists and bunching his upper body’s solid musculature. “Especially if it’s in defense of a fellow Omnian,” he added.
Miriamelle firmly repeated Franz’s reply to the commander of the bridge. Hearing the Omnian’s words and having watched his aggressive display, some of Tormheth’s support weakened. Metal bars dropped by centimeters, faces lost their angriest expressions, and bodies leaned back.
“Excellent, Admiral,” Sargut said. “Feel free to advance on the subcommander, take his weapon from him, and crack him over the head with it.”
“If I do that, Commander, I could easily kill him,” Franz replied. For effect, he rolled his shoulders, as if preparing for action.
Miriamelle’s emotional state was elevated. She’d feared for her existence. But, with Franz’s arrival and her every repetition of the admiral’s replies to Sargut, she participated in a theatrical scene that intimidated the attackers and saved her.
“So be it, Admiral,” Sargut replied. “I can replace a subcommander, but Miriamelle is precious and a critical part of our future.”
“If you insist, Commander,” Franz said, taking menacing steps toward Tormheth.
Tormheth was the second antagonist, within minutes, to demonstrate an error in judgment. He raised his bar to strike Franz. He held it tightly, as he swung it. By the end of his swing, he was empty-handed, and Franz held the bar.
Franz pointed his newly acquired bar at the aggressors, one by one. As the Toralian crew members stared at the weapon in the hands of the angry, towering Omnian, they dropped their weapons.
“Is the subcommander dead yet?” Sargut asked. He dearly hoped not. He had learned much about the Omnians, but he had to admit that he might have misjudged them.
“Officer of the deck, who has tried to usurp the bridge?” Sargut demanded.
The bridge officer read out the names of the guilty parties.
“These individuals are to be confined to locked quarters,” Sargut ordered. “The grand commander will deal with them when we return to the fleet. Admiral Cohen, if these foolish individuals give my bridge crew any trouble, I want you to feel free to administer your weapon on them in any manner you choose. Insubordinate crew members, such as these, I don’t need.”
The bridge crew immediately collected the dropped metal bars. Then they directed the transgressors off the bridge.
Sargut ended his participation in the call, thanked Miranda, and made his way back to the table. Taralum and Suntred paid particular attention to his facial expressions, attempting to read him.
“Was everything settled to your satisfaction, Commander?” Alex asked.
“Can I assume that you and your Omnians heard every word of the exchange?” Sargut asked, tapping his temple.
“Yes,” Alex replied.
“Then allow me to update my comrades,” Sargut responded. He huddled with Taralum and Suntred to relate the events that had transpired aboard his ship.
“Do you need a subcommander?” asked Taralum, when Sargut finished. “I can transfer mine.”
“I think that would do my loyal officers a disservice,” Sargut replied. “They demonstrated great courage in resisting Tormheth and his followers. Putting another ship’s subcommander over them might give them the impression that I thought their actions were less than exemplary.”
While Sargut spoke with his associates, the Chistorlans looked at Julien for a translation. The SADE quietly explained that the incident was a Toralian internal matter that had been dealt with appropriately.
Sargut returned his focus to the table, and Reiko said to him, “Weapons were mentioned several times. Do the Toralians possess personal armament?”
“Yes, Admiral,” Sargut replied. “They are limited in capability. We have little need for them. All deadly encounters are ship to ship, or I should say that they’re fleet to fleet, almost always battleships. My subcommander and the crew who accompanied him carried metal bars.”
Reiko regarded the slender Toralians and said, “I see. Then Franz was in no danger.”
When Suntred heard the manner in which the admiral spoke the Omnian’s first name, she wondered if the two were familiars, perhaps mates. Her imagination was spurred, wondering how Omnians intimately interacted.
“Do you believe the target was the bridge?” Alex asked. “That Tormheth took the opportunity, in your absence, to take over the ship?” This was a critical question for Alex. He was fairly certain he knew the answer, but he needed to hear Sargut’s explanation.
“With regret, Alex, they intended harm to Miriamelle,” Sargut admitted. “I see this as a fault of giving too much credence to Tormheth’s many annuals of service with me. I knew he harbored dark suspicions about your race, especially the SADEs. But I couldn’t imagine that he would throw away his service by taking such actions.”
“Should we have any worries about the other ships?” Alex asked, looking toward Taralum.
“Not on my ship,” Taralum replied. “My subcommander is a level-headed individual, who is loyal to me, and Sugatar is present on his ship to control his officers and crew. He’s too inexperienced to do anything other than what he’s been ordered to do.”
“Understand, Alex,” Sargut said, “Subcommander Tormheth has more time in fleet than any member on these three battleships. The fleet is his life. I believe he saw events spiraling out of control for his race, and he took the steps he felt necessary to prevent that.”
“That the problem is contained is what counts,” Alex said.
Sargut nodded his agreement, then added, “It was particularly helpful to have Admiral Cohen present. With his size, Admiral Cohen was able to menace them, and Tormheth and his followers dropped their weapons.”
The Omnians chuckled at the characterization of Franz as a menacing individual.
“What?” Taralum asked.
“Where I come from, we have an expression about humans like Franz. It speaks to the fact that despite their size they’re gentle entities,” Reiko explained.
“Where you come from?” Suntred queried. “You’re not Omnian?”
Reiko realized she touched on a portion of Alex’s varied past, and the answer might involve revealing the convoluted interactions of the Confederation, Méridien, Haraken, Sol, United Earth, and Idona Station.
“I became an Omnian,” Reiko replied, to simplify her explanation.
-17-
The Cave
Around the Chistorlans’ table, the discussion about the overall strategic elements continued for about another hour until Miranda signaled Alex.
“We’ve an opportunity to adjourn to a location better suited to the continuation of our discussions,” Alex announced. “Are there any objections?” When there were none, he added, “We’ll be taking the grav pallets.”
The SADEs qui
ckly rearranged chairs to load the supplies that had been hauled in late last night and then load the crates.
When everyone was ready, Miranda let Julien lead and set the pace. The Toralians were disappointed by the tepid speed. It was hardly worthwhile standing and flying their wings.
The entourage entered the cave, and the SADEs guided the grav pallets along the rear wall.
The Toralians and the Chistorlans were in awe at the amount of activity taking place. An Omnian fighter sat against the far side of the cave with its hatch lowered. Another fighter could be seen outside and settled on the river wash. Tables, chairs, equipment crates, a massive holo-vid, power structures, and personnel filled the remainder of the cave. Sargut doubted that there was enough space to accommodate any more equipment or Omnians.
“Alex, good to see you,” Mickey said, giving his friend a hearty hug, and Alex couldn’t help but smile at his perpetually upbeat engineer.
Alex introduced Mickey to his new acquaintances and ended by focusing on Tittra. “Mickey, this is your new best friend, Tittra.”
Mickey smiled widely at the little Chistorlan, who backed up until he ran into Lipsit.
“Something I said?” Mickey asked Alex.
“Imagine you’re Tittra, and you’re looking up at a strange alien towering over you,” Alex replied.
“But they’ve been looking at Miranda and you,” Mickey protested.
“I don’t count, dear man. I’m visually delightful,” Miranda shot back.
“And I’m … me,” Alex replied, failing to come up with a witty reply. “Anyway, try not to frighten Tittra. He has an entire cavern full of digital entities that are at war with one another. In less than one hundred and eight days, there will be one left operating.”
Mickey stared with pained eyes at Julien and Miranda. From Julien, he heard,
“Your job, Mickey, is to know everything it takes to transport this entity, which is in a large case, from here to Talus,” Alex continued.
